


I had strings, but now I'm free...

by Tasharene



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blackmail, Explicit Language, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Smoking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 60,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasharene/pseuds/Tasharene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In canon, Nate is a decorated war veteran with PTSD and developing drug addiction, while Nora is... a lawyer. That is all the extra characterization given to her in the intro. I had to change that. I wanted a Nora that would have a background equal to Nate's in complexity and impact, that would at least partly account for her skillfully handling weapons, and taking all the wasteland dangers in stride. I also wanted a Nora that wouldn't be just a smart and boring lawyer. I wanted a Nora with a twist. This is her story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

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* * *

**[sometime in 2278]**

 

From a distance, he looked like a toy soldier fearlessly trudging his way towards raiders' hideout, the polished plates of his power armor gleaming in the sun like a beacon of righteousness. Real damn paladin.

Nora giggled at the thought, making Danse's figure shake comically in her rifle's long scope. Berating herself for losing focus while Danse's safety was largely in her hands, the woman shifted, getting more comfortable on the rooftop's rusty, sun-warmed metal. Now that the paladin was close enough for the enemies to see him, Nora could easily notice their movement behind the junk fence. She held her breath and pulled the trigger. Then again. And once more. Three raiders lay dead on the ground, their heads no more than puddles of smoking, greenish goo. Or blood and grey matter. Same difference.

_Knock, knock, motherfuckers._

With the front guards out of the picture, Danse could kick down the makeshift gate and safely enter the recently established compound. Thinking him to be alone and an easy prey for the small crowd of them, the remaining enemies made the mistake of revealing themselves. Nora snorted, meticulously choosing her next target. They would try to surround the paladin to simply gun him down while they stood in a circle and laughed. Typical boasting from a group of overconfident idiots... cut short when Danse gave a slight nod, signaling for her to open fire.

The raider closest to him opened his mouth to scream and promptly turned into a glowing puddle at the man's armored feet. The others panicked and immediately rushed for cover... but never made it, shot down by the scarlet beams of Danse's laser rifle.

It never ceased to amaze Nora just how much Danse had trusted her aim, letting her supercharged plasma projectiles whiz just inches away from him as they both rained death upon their opponents. The paladin would never flinch, or even attempt to get out of the way, simply shifting to another enemy the moment she had made his current one's face explode in a gooey mess.

In calmer moments, Nora would always find that trust overwhelming, an actual burden of responsibility to carry with her at all times. Right then and there, however, she hardly had any chance for thinking, for it seemed they had for once miscalculated the raider numbers. Alarmed by the sounds of battle, reinforcements began pouring in from a well hidden entrance to the sewers. Within moments there were so may of them that it stopped being relevant they only wore makeshift armor and carried crude weapons. The risk of Danse getting overwhelmed had become quite real and Nora's rifle was not enough support for the circumstances.

Muttering a filthy curse, she dropped the gun and rushed to the suit of power armor she had parked behind the cover of an old, corroded billboard. She was on the run even before the HUD had fully flickered on in the helmet's display. After a stupidly risky jump from one rooftop to another, and a short sprint across the crumbling sea of ceramic shingles, she positioned herself three stories above the compound. And then she jumped. The sheer force of impact knocked down most of the raiders swarming around Danse, allowing the two soldiers to easily finish off the remaining foes together.

Once the dust had settled, they were the only ones still alive.

"Outstanding."

There was more than a hint of post-battle high in Danse's voice and it made Nora roll her eyes at him. "Yeah, because I just fucking love crushing heads with my hands, up close and personal." Tearing a piece of clothing from one of the corpses, she tried to wipe her bloodstained visor clean. When the visibility had only suffered from that, more expletives rolled off her tongue. Growling, she pulled off the helm and looked over herself. "Great. Look at all the blood, it's gonna take fucking forever to clean it."

"Language, knight." Danse scolded out of habit, but didn't bother to sound offended anymore. He was bound to get used to her filthy mouth eventually, and it only took him a couple of months before he gave up on serious attempts to educate her about decorum.

"Sir, yes, sir." Nora waved a dismissive hand at him. "Now excuse me, I gotta go get my stuff from the roof before some ghoul strolls in and claims it all."

That did get the paladin to scowl, his whole posture radiating disapproval as he tensed up and shot a quick glance at the vantage point she had vacated to help him. "Abandoning or losing your weapons is--"

"Fuck, I KNOW, all right?" There was no point explaining to Danse that it was either making sure the equipment was secure, or getting to him in time to make sure his paladin ass remained unharmed. All that mattered to the man was that she broke one of the fundamental rules he had always been so fond of citing. Putting the helm on once again, Nora turned away and rushed towards the compound's mangled gate.

"You can court-martial me for it after I get back."

* * *

**[09:17, NOV. 21st, 2277]**

 

"Excuse me, Paladin Danse?"

Nora felt her hands tremble, so she clenched them into tight fists, waiting for the soldier to face her. It took a moment, the clunky power armor requiring the man to do a full body turn while being careful of the surroundings in the tight space of the Cambridge Police Station's interior. A flash of recognition sparked in Danse's eyes when he looked down at her.

"Welcome back. Nora, was it? It's been a while since we last saw you." He offered her a surprisingly genuine smile. "You caught me in the nick of time, too, I was about to report to Prydwen for reassignment. Have you reconsidered my offer?"

"I..." She did not hesitate, not her, not ever. She merely needed a few precious seconds to make sure her voice wouldn't break.

_That's my girl. That's my little soldier._

"Yes, I have. I want to join the Brotherhood." Somewhere in the far corner, right out of her sight, she could hear Rhys choke on whatever he had been drinking at the moment. The bastard actually had the nerve to protest, albeit only under his breath, but still loud enough that a litany of insults had reached her ears anyway. Nora narrowed her eyes to slits, turning to glare daggers at him. "If knight Rhys kindly gives me his blessing, that is."

"Recruitment is outside of Knight Rhys' competence," the Paladin stated, looking over her shoulder at the man in question, and not relenting until Rhys excused himself and left to another room. "That said, I can only grant you the rank of initiate, here in the field. I am certain, however, that Elder Maxson will take my account of your assistance under consideration once we report to him."

Nora shook her head. "I don't expect any favors. I want to go through full procedure, every step of the way." She paused to glance into the darkness of the adjacent room. "If only to avoid any potential complaints. By the book."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, soldier." Danse seemed to have appreciated her sentiment, if his downright jolly tone was anything to go by. "Ready to head out?"

"Sir, yes sir," she replied and only barely stopped herself from snapping her heels together and shooting off a proper salute, just like she did as a joke every time Nate--

 _You are my brave little soldier and I love you, you know that, right?_  

Yeah, old habits die hard. Memories linger. An all too vivid flash from the past made Nora embrace herself and drop her head to hide a wince. Luckily, it seemed the paladin hadn't noticed, already in full swing and heading for the stairs.

"Let's go to the roof. We're going for a little ride."

 

* * *

 


	2. Merry Christmas

* * *

**[22:38, DEC. 24th, 2277]**

 

The world below, viewed from Prydwen's deck seemed... dead and oppressive. A flickering spot of firelight here and there provided no respite and no comfort, only barely making it through thick, oily darkness of the night. The surprisingly soft hum of the zeppelin's engine was oddly soothing, however, despite it being a constant reminder of just how fragile the massive ship really was. How close to disaster it had been ever since it left the ground, god only knew how long ago.

Nora shivered and rubbed her arms to bring back some of the warmth stolen away by the cold, winter wind. BOS uniforms weren't exactly made for much warmth, but they did have a nice set of clever pockets... perfect to hide a stolen bottle of vodka in.

Blinking, she stepped away from the railing to seek shelter among the crates of supplies that had been delivered earlier that day. Making herself comfortable on top of one of them, Nora pulled the white bottle out and took a long swig. It burned, just like she remembered. The first swallow was a satisfying rush of liquid fire that seared her insides, but the second seemed only barely lukewarm. The third wasn't much more effective than the irradiated water she had to drink every day since-- Yeah, what a fucking disappointment.

_Is it really, little soldier? Or are you just getting tougher. Stronger. Braver._

It took Nora a moment to realize that the stinging sensation on her cheeks was caused by wet trails of tears, instantly freezing over in the cold. She did not bother to wipe them. Instead, she reached for the leather cord tied around her neck and pulled out a simple gold band stringed on it. Its warmth felt strange against her clumsy, chilled fingers. Haunting, wrong. It should have been cold, like ice, like frozen memories... it should... No, _she_ shouldn't--

"You missed the evening briefing, soldier."

Shit. She must have zoned out really hard to not hear Danse's approach, armor clanging against the metal deck loud enough to drown all the other sounds.

"I... I am sorry, sir. I..." She had no excuse, the bottle clutched in her hand a damning evidence of the rules broken. The Paladin did not ask for any explanations, though, just watching her, thick brows furrowing in something she would have to call concern had she bothered to notice it.

"I don't like that look on your face, knight. I've seen it too many times to mistake it for simple melancholy."

With a forced laugh, Nora jumped off the crate and came over to the railing again, a perfect pretext to turn her back on him. "Nah, it's just my face. Those yellowish lights here aren't very flattering for my features. Vodka doesn't help, either."

Silence. _Please, just go the fuck away._

"This is not a joking matter," Danse said at last, another clang of steel against steel informing Nora that he had made a small step closer. Just one, thankfully.

"No, it is not."

More silence. She liked that in him. The paladin was always brutally honest, and meant every word that left his mouth, regardless of the subject matter. He would never throw words to the wind just to keep the conversation going, just to make someone at ease with false hopes, or promises he wouldn't keep.

"You shouldn't--"

Nora muttered a curse and spun on her heel to face him. "Look, I know I fucked up here. I neglected my duties to get drunk, I'm well aware. Please, be so kind to administer any punishment you feel is adequate, and I will gladly submit. All right?"

Shaking his head, the man took a deep breath, attempting to keep calm. "This is not what I--"

"Danse, please. I came outside, to this cursed cold, because I was sure no one would find me and my bottle here at this time of day. Clearly, I was wrong, but I do remember that you are my sponsor, and I do not intend to bring you shame or dishonor. I just... I needed... I..."

As she fumbled for words, he took the bottle from her trembling hand and put it away on the nearest stack of boxes, showing remarkable skill in operating the clunky gauntlet of his power armor.

"I won't know unless you tell me, soldier."

The wedding ring shifted on Nora's chest as she took a shuddering breath. The gold caught and reflected a bit of light from the overhead lamp. "I need to go back to the vault," she managed to say, the resolve in her voice not matching any of the bitter, mangled feelings coiling in her chest.

No questions asked, Danse offered a single nod and immediately headed for the nearest docking bay. "Go pack everything you need. I'll have a lancer ready a vertibird for us."

"Us?" _I don't want you there. I don't want anyone there... it's a fucking grave. I want to try and mourn at last. In private._

He didn't even bother to look back at her. "You are still learning, and I am your sponsor. Where you go, I go. Now move, soldier."

 

* * *

**[06:44, DEC. 25th, 2277]**

 

Silence filled the vault as soon as the screech of the gate lifting up stopped echoing from the walls. It was a different kind of silence than anything that could be achieved above. It was suffocating, deafening, further enhanced by overwhelming darkness. The sudden sensory deprivation made Nora's ears ring and her heart pound, but before she lost courage and backed away, Danse flipped his helmet's lamp on, providing both the light and the usual noise of his heavy, armored footsteps.

Grateful, but not willing to show it, Nora half-ran deeper inside, towards the control terminals, remembering that the last time she had been there, a section of the reactor still worked, providing a steady hum and an occasional snap of discharge. A relieved sigh escaped her when, after a few commands she had typed in, the machinery stirred and switched from maintenance mode to full function, filling the entire vault with steady, if faint, electric light.

"I have never been inside a vault before," the paladin admitted, looking around, his laser rifle needlessly at the ready. "It's not... what I expected. Much smaller, for one."

It took Nora a moment to calm down enough to avoid just telling him to shut up and wait for her by the entrance. Instead, she slowly rose from the terminal's desk and headed further in. "This vault was never meant to be a traditional shelter," she explained in a deadpan voice, leading the way towards the cryo room. "The inhabitants were to remain frozen for as long as it was necessary while the staff monitored them and, no doubt, performed some experiments."

As always, Danse took a moment to analyze her words before he formulated a reply. "I have read about Vault-tec's practices. Every vault was designed as some sort of sick social or medical experiment. Cryo stasis seems mild compared to their other... accomplishments."

"Ain't I a lucky bitch," Nora snapped, slamming the control button to open the last door that separated her from the two rows of leaking pods. Ignoring Danse's protest, she dropped her backpack and her gun to the concrete floor and went inside. Biting hard on the inside of her cheek, she retraced her steps from two hundreds years ago, passing the slowly decomposing bodies of the neighbors, until she stopped by the last but one container.

Before she left the vault, she had made sure to reinitialize the stasis inside it, just that one, gaining proof in the process that there was no real malfunction or emergency, that everything that had happened to her family was carefully planned and staged, including her own release.

Vaguely aware of Danse pausing at the doorstep to watch her in silence, Nora took a deep breath of slightly stale air and turned to finally look inside through the pod's viewport. Nate's skin, pale and dusted with a fine layer of frost, sparkled in the flickering light of the power armor's lamp as the paladin kept looking around from his vantage point. A sight more peaceful than gruesome. Not at all what she had expected.

Nora allowed herself to simply stare, reaching out and resting her palm flat against the cold metal in front of her. "Merry Christmas, husband," she whispered, hoping to feel the overwhelming ache of loss that should have crushed her the moment she awoke as the sole survivor. It should have, but never did. "I'm sorry I was not a better wife. I'm sorry I will not be a good mother. I'm sorry I was such a disappointment... and thank you for loving me regardless. In your own way."

_I do so love you, my feisty little soldier. I always will._

The moment she felt the sting of guilty tears in her eyes at last, she tore the leather cord off her neck and tied it to the door's handle. The wedding ring bounced off the steel in a ridiculously merry jingle. Nora felt her lips stretch in a faint smile at that.

"Yeah. I am a real soldier now, Nate. And I guess I'll be okay. Eventually. I hope."

Once she was ready to leave, she turned towards Danse only to find the room empty and the door closed. She panicked, an utterly ridiculous thought that he had locked her up there and left her for dead flashed across her mind. Dismissing it with a fierce shake of her head, Nora padded to the wall and pushed the button. The door slid up with a hiss, revealing the paladin waiting for her at a respectful distance. He had taken off his helmet, holding it one hand in front of him while adjusting the headlamp with the other.  

"I didn't know. I'm sorry," he offered as soon as their eyes met, in a voice much softer than she would ever expect to hear from him.

"Don't be. Nobody knew. I'm not exactly the sharing type." Nora tried for a smile, but failed, sending him a slight grimace instead. "I... had a son, too."

The paladin looked as if he wanted to say something, but she did not let him.

"He was taken away form me, right here, in this vault. Now he's 10 years old, living a happy life in the Institute. He doesn't know about me, doesn't know me at all. I'm just a stranger to him. Less than that, I just... don't exist. He calls different people his family, a different woman his mother. From the moment I woke up in one of those fucking pods, I wanted to find him, save him, fight for him. He was all I had left, all I ever really cared about, but... what right do I have to come barging into his life now, guns blazing? To ruin whatever peace and happiness he had been given in this fucked up world? None. I can't do that to him. I may have pushed him out of my womb, but I am not his mother. Someone else is. Someone else saw him take the first steps, taught him to read and write. Not me. I don't count any more. I don't exist. I don't--"

Danse seemed to be as surprised by that outburst as she was, his eyes wide and the helmet forgotten. Nora gestured for him to stay away when she swayed and leaned against the curved wall for support.

"I found about it on the day the Prydwen arrived to the Commonwealth, imagine that. Of all days, it had to be that one... Omens, damnit. After I got the news, after I killed the son of a rabid bitch who delivered it to me, who murdered my husband, who took my son away, I... felt so empty, so absolutely void of any purpose in life... it scared me shitless, that irrelevance. I didn't exactly want to die, but I wasn't keen on living, either, you know? So I was just wandering, pretty much waiting for a supermutant, or a feral, or heck, even a pack mongrels to put me out of my misery. And then I heard your call over the radio. Your voice ordering your people to report for reassignment. There was something in that voice that--" A long-suppressed sob had finally escaped her throat, and Nora let herself slump to the ground in a graceless heap. " _Reassignment_ , you said. I needed that. I needed to be reassigned. Rewritten. From a mother to something else. Anything. At least a soldier's life was something familiar, something I knew before, even if it was mostly through being a military wife. So I came to you... only to find out that the one reason for the Brotherhood's presence here is to destroy my son's new home, wipe it off the face of the world... talk about a fucking irony, right?"

"On your feet, sister." A pair of cold metal hands helped her up and remained in place on her arms until she could stand again. "We _will_ fight the Institute. We _will_ find your son there. And then you _will_ show him what it's like to have a real mother, not one that likely just uses him for sick experiments. Consider that an order."

Nora looked up at the paladin, his face blurry through the tears in her eyes. She wanted to tell him that neither of these were an option for her, that she would rather go into the nearest mutant hive and die there than to destroy her son's life like that... instead, she just blinked rapidly and let out a weary sigh. "Fuck, you sure have a twisted way to ease a woman's mind... sir."

"Easing your mind was not my intention," he stated, putting the helm back on and leading the way to the exit.

"No, of course it wasn't."

* * *

 


	3. Interlude

* * *

**[17:23 hrs, JAN 3rd, 2278]**

 

“No-no-no, you put it in too deep, you need to be gentle here, like with a blushing virgin.” Nora shook her head and, placing a hand on Danse’s wrist, adjusted the position of a bobby pin he had been holding inside a lock. “Exactly like that, sir. Now try turning it and listen carefully for the sounds it makes. If you can’t hear anything, you’re not doing it right. Again, like with a–-”

“Enough with the analogies, soldier.” The paladin snapped and rested his forehead against the door they’d been trying to open for the past quarter of an hour. “I get the general idea.”

Mildly confused by his outburst, Nora shot the man a quick glance. Even though she was standing behind his crouched figure, she couldn’t possibly miss the bright red color of his ears, the blush reaching as far as the collar of the uniform he wore. “I’m sorry, sir,” she offered, making sure to contain a giggle that threatened to escape her. “I was just trying to be descriptive to make it easier for you during your… first time.”

“I have noticed.” Danse resumed his struggle, letting out a satisfied - or relieved - grunt when, at long last, he managed to find the right position and disengage the mechanism. Once the door to his own quarters on the Prydwen had finally opened, he stood and held the slightly bent pin up to reprimand it with a glare. “Part of me hoped that at least the locks _here_ would be immune to… this.”

“I know, right?” Nora took a curious peek into the room. “I haven’t really found one yet that I wouldn’t be able to open this way. Anyway, you promised me a shot of quantum if I teach you how to deflorate that lock…”

Rolling his eyes, Danse invited her in with a gesture. “Help yourself, there’s a bottle on the desk.” He did not follow her inside, however. When Nora stepped back onto the main walkway, a glowing nuka in hand, the paladin was already at the other end of the ship, busy at his power armor’s stand.

 

* * *

 


	4. Radstorm

* * *

**[14:50, JAN 23rd, 2278]**

 

Heralded by a sudden, piercing howl of wind, heavy clouds rolled in. Coiling and undulating they were so low, they seemed to drag against bare tree tops. As the sky became sickly green, Nora stopped, turning to Danse for explanation.

"What the ever loving fuck is--" Her eyes went wide at the sight of him looking around in distress.

"We need to find a shelter. Immediately." The paladin approached her and unceremoniously helped himself to the sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. Squinting through the scope, he spun around, surveying the surrounding ruins. "There."

After a frantic run, they barricaded themselves inside the remnants of a tiny department store. Debris and piles of trash covered the floor, but there were no ghouls, the walls were intact, and there was an actual roof two floors above their heads. Nora still flinched when the first lightning hit the ground outside, close enough to instantly bring a deafening thunder with it. The sound was different than that of an ordinary storm. Dry. Hissy. It made her skin crawl.

"Danse?"

The man kept watching his Geiger counter's display. "Radstorm. They blow in from the Glowing Sea occasionally. Not a good idea to be out in the open wearing a power armor when they come." Finally looking up, he tilted his head slightly. "They are relatively rare, but it's hard to believe you haven't experienced one before."

Nora curled around herself when another thunder came. It hit a nearby building this time, if the sound of crumbling bricks was anything to go by. "I haven't." Panic crept up and took her by surprise, making her step away from the wall and sit on the floor in what seemed to be the exact center of the cramped room.

"I have never been.... fond of storms. Not after we lost an entire barn full of cows in a fire started by lightning... there was nothing we could do except listen to them... they screamed, just like people. And this... radstorm...? It's green... it's like something from a fucking horror movie... like.. like..." Fear clawed at her throat with its icy fingers, not allowing her to say a single word more. All she could do was bury her head in her arms and rock slightly back and forth while the storm raged.

"You'll get used to them," Danse assured, standing right next to her. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips when Nora leaned against his armored legs and relaxed with a little sigh. "Radstorms hardly present any danger if you manage to find proper shelter. The hazardous levels of radiation are limited to the immediate area around a lightning strike, and the rain can not harm you inside. We just have to wait it out."

"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes and hoping he'd keep talking, but no more words came to distract her. "Explain Glowing Sea, please?"

"Sometimes I do forget you were not born in this world." The paladin took a moment to sort through the information he had about the area. "It is not actually a sea, just an extensive mass of land that is irradiated heavily enough to emit a constant glow. Sometimes you can see it from very far away, if the weather holds and the air is clear. I have not personally been there, but I have read reports. It is believed that somewhere out there is the exact site where the bombs fell."

"In that case I more or less know where it is," Nora said, feeling him shift at that revelation. "I have seen the explosion... before the elevator went down into the vault. The blinding light, the mushroom cloud, the shockwave coming at us... all those people behind us, doomed to die while we..."

_Deep breath, girl. One more. Yes, just like that._

"And then I came out... a few days later. That was what I thought, at least, surely it didn't feel like much longer. I expected to see their charred corpses, but saw skeletons instead, bones picked clean, bleached by the sun or covered with strange glowing moss. Some still had clothes clinging to them, clothes I could probably recognize if I... if I bothered to actually look. But I ran instead, until I tripped over someone's skull, crushed it under my boot, like it was nothing, like that person didn't matter... and I just wanted to go home... to what was left of my home, picked clean by scavengers decades before... days before... I--"

_It's the past. Gone, you couldn't change it then, you can't change it now. Move on. Move on, little soldier._

"Shut up, Nate. Shut up!"

"Knight?"

She hated the concern in his voice. It seemed genuine.

"It's all so fucking surreal..." Carding fingers through her hair, Nora tugged at the greasy strands. Fiercely, anchoring herself with the pain. "Now I know 200 years had passed, but the problem is that for me it hasn't, you know? For me it feels like I was sleeping in my soft, clean bed just last night, with intact roof above my head, and my baby son babbling happily in the next room. When I look at all the buildings around, I see them as they were before the war... but then I blink and there's all the filth, damage, decay, ancient ferals that could be people I've met, knew... and I just keep fucking blinking because maybe it will all go away, maybe I'll wake up and... and--"

"You are very efficient at hiding your true emotions, then," Danse offered, stepping out of the power armor to join her on the floor. "We've been on the same team for a couple of months now and if anyone asked me, I'd tell them you've adapted exceptionally well to the new environment."

"I've always been good at wearing masks. Even for Nate. He never realized that I didn't... wasn't exactly--" Sighing, she closed her eyes again and tilted her head back to rest it against the empty suit of armor with a soft thump. "Never mind."

"Nate was your husband's name?"

"Yeah. And I was the perfect little loving wife. Smart, polite, well mannered. Model lady of the house. With a law degree, at that, so not your average dumb cooking and breeding machine from a small town. That's what was expected of me. Perfection, adaptation, submission. Even though I was the exact opposite of all that. I did fully intend to be the model mother, though, despite the overwhelming fear that I'd fuck it all up. And heck, I probably would have if the war kindly hadn't fucked it all up for me." She let out a dark chuckle. "Thanks very fucking much, war."

"Language, soldier."

"Sorry, mom."

Danse's indignant huff made her laugh. Uncontrollably, hysterically, until tears rolled down her cheeks, until hiccups took over and all she could do was regret opening her mouth at all.

The paladin observed her reactions, noting and recognizing painfully familiar emotions in them. Deep shadows of the windowless room and the greenish light from the pip-boy made Nora look old and weary. The lines of her face seemed deeper, cheekbones sharper, even her skin looked ashen, and for a moment he worried she might be ill. After all, serious radiation poisoning from constant, low level exposure wasn't out of the question for someone born in the world before the bombs. That was unacceptable. Not on his watch.

"You will be wearing your power armor on our next mission, and every single one after that, soldier," he growled, standing up and hiding in the safety of his own suit. "This is not up for a debate. Now compose yourself and prepare to move out. The storm has passed."

"Fuck you, paladin."

Danse froze, glaring down at Nora still sitting on the floor at his feet. With a sigh that sounded surprisingly much like a suppressed growl, he dropped the helmet he'd been about to put on and reached for Nora instead. Holding her arms in a firm grip, he hauled her up and held her in front of him, high enough to make her feet dangle in the air.

"When you came to the station asking to join the Brotherhood, I said I expected just two things from my recruits: obedience and respect. Do you remember that?"

She nodded, eyes wide and whole body rigid under Danse's glare. He was disappointed with her. Frustrated, too. Nora failed to comprehend how his voice could remain so cold and calm voice when he continued his... corrective speech.

"Excellent. Then you no doubt also remember how you agreed to those terms. Eagerly, I might add. I have no major complaints about the first part of that deal, you are an asset in a fight, you follow orders well enough, despite your fussing, second guessing, and commenting on them sometimes. I can understand that. You are still a civilian, new to the military life. You are adapting. You have been through more than one tragedy in a very short time. So I do not mind. What I do mind, is your blatant lack of respect for me as your senior officer. I do not care if you don't respect me as a person, we do not have to be friends, but when we are on a mission, our survival depends on how well we cooperate as a team. This will not work with your current attitude."

Nora closed her eyes, inhaling slowly through her nose and trying not to feel the metal fingers digging into her flesh. Not enough to cause pain or bruising, but hard enough to keep her firmly in place. He was right, of course. Just like Nate's parents had been, just like every single person that demanded of her to change, be better, smoother, nicer, friendlier, more polite, more sophisticated... less of herself. Anger flared up, rushing along her veins and making her thrash in Danse's hold.

"Let me go, you son of a bitch! Let. Me. Go!"

A frown slashed across the man's features, but he immediately placed her back on the floor, movements careful as if she was made of glass. His voice remained hard as steel, however.

"You are free to go. You asked to join, and the Brotherhood took you in, but you can still leave at any time. Perhaps that would be for the best if you find yourself unable to accept me as your mentor."

He kept glaring at her for a moment longer before grabbing his helm and storming out of the building. Nora watched him stomp down the road, half hoping he would look back. He didn't.

 

* * *

 


	5. Shield

* * *

**[23:14, JAN 23rd, 2278]**

 

Nora trailed behind Danse like a dog after its master, and she hated herself for it. Following the bright cone of white light coming from his helmet's lamp, she kept the distance, but never strayed far. Truth was that she trusted Danse and followed him into battle without hesitation... if not without snapping at the man or the circumstances. She had nothing against him being her mentor. He was a fair and charismatic leader, fiercely loyal, too. She also did appreciate the risk he took vouching for her. Heck, he would even let her go despite it leaving a dent in his reputation.

Every time he opened his mouth to prattle about rules, however, she would bristle and lash out at him. And damn, but the Brotherhood had a strict code of conduct for every fucking occasion. Dozens upon dozens of rules she's had forced down her throat every single day since she joined. Rules on friends, foes, allies, and who she was supposed to kill on sight, without a question. Rules for shooting, walking, talking, and shitting, too, no doubt. Rules. Her entire adult life was just her dancing while someone else was pulling the strings and choosing the music. No room for anything of her own. Was she good at that? Hell, yes. She was a fucking ballerina. Did she want that life back? Never. Danse be damned, she would rather die than live like that for a single day more.

As if on cue, pain erupted in her side, making her collapse to the ground with an indignant cry. Warmth spread under the skin-tight uniform, and she felt the unmistakable, coppery smell of blood. Sniper. Silenced rifle. Night vision scope. Not a good shot, though, considering that she was still alive. She wouldn't have missed. Nora let her head drop to the crumbled remnants of what once was a busy road.

_Come on, loser. Finish it._

The shooter never got a chance. Before the second bullet could reach Nora, Danse was by her side, headlamp off and rifle in hand. He practically covered her with his armored body, straightening only after the bullet meant for her had bounced off the plates of his chest piece. He couldn't possibly know where exactly the sniper was hiding, but still sent a furious volley of scarlet laser beams in his general direction.

"How bad?" He asked, kneeling beside Nora, careful to keep himself like a shield between her and the raider... gunner... bored scavver, whoever it was.

"I'll live, I think," she muttered a weak reply. "He's a lousy shot."

"I'll take your word for it." He did not sound convinced, though. "I won't risk turning on the light to examine the wound right now. Can you walk at all? We need to find cover."

If he wanted her to walk, she damn sure would. Even if she couldn't. "Can do." It sounded nothing like the cocky statement she had intended it to be.

Another bullet ricocheted off Danse's armor, lodging itself in what was left of a nearby bus stop. He swore under his breath.

"Language, paladin..." Nora tried to gather herself up, but a stab of searing pain in her guts knocked her straight back to the ground again. "Fucking hell... it's still in... my armor must have... slowed it down enough to..."

Handing her his own rifle, Danse gathered her in his arms and straightened up. "There's a cargo truck just ahead of me. We can hide inside the container it was carrying, the door is open. I can get you there while keeping my back turned at the sniper. I will be running, though, so--"

"I can take the pain. You'll be taking the bullets, after all." The joke fell flat, but she didn't care, clutching the rifle in a white knuckled grip as the paladin rushed ahead, bringing a fresh wave of agony with every single step.

 

* * *

**[02:22, JAN 24th, 2278]**

 

"Wake up, soldier."

No, waking up was the very last thing she felt like doing. No. No fucking way.

"I let you drift off for the procedure, but I need you to stay awake now so I can monitor your vitals. Come on."

What the ever-loving-fuck was he rambling on about... oh! Nora's eyes snapped open. She sat up, or at least tried to, before she fell limply back to whatever it was she had been placed on. Danse's figure was only barely visible through the myriads of glowing spots swirling in front of her eyes.

"Cold," she croaked out. "Dizzy."

The paladin nodded, walking away from her. "I had to remove what was left of your armor and uniform, you've also lost a lot of blood. Unfortunately, starting a fire for warmth is out of the question in current circumstances. I patched you up as best I could, but I'm no medic. Stimpaks can only heal a limited amount of damage. I'm calling for a vertibird as soon as the sun goes up."

"No need... I can--" Well, fuck, of course she could not. Blinking several times helped clear her vision, just a tiny bit, enough to look around in the dimmed light of her pip-boy. She was curled up on an old pallet, at the very end of the huge metal container. The BOS standard issue breast band (she refused to call this thing a bra) was doing its job of protecting her modesty, but she still was pretty much naked from the waist up. Shivering with both cold and exhaustion. Danse, power armor perpetually on and weapon at the ready, was guarding the entrance.

"Do you think they will come after us?"

"It is a possibility if the sniper wasn't alone. Wise choice would be to get here before daylight, however, and they are running out of time for that."

"Peachy." Nora brightened the pip-boy's illumination and reached for her side. She winced at the sight of all the dried blood clinging to her skin. The area right around the injury was clean, though. The wound itself was much larger than it should have been from just a single shot, but six perfectly even stitches kept the torn skin together, and she could no longer feel the pain from the projectile buried in her guts.

"You pulled it out? Damn, Haylen would be so proud."

Danse snorted. "She would do a far better job of it, I assure you. It was a .50 caliber, looked home made, quite crude. That's why he kept missing."

Nora looked around the filthy metal floor, additionally decorated with a somewhat large puddle of her own, congealed blood. She found the bullet right next to a pile of blood-soaked bandages. Rusty and misshapen after piercing through her armor, it still was a formidable thing to look at. She hid it in a pocket and maneuvered herself to sit up with her back against the wall.

"I have never been shot before... hurt as all fucking hell. Less so now, though. Didn't know stimpaks have painkillers in them, too."

Turning around, Danse send her a look she failed to categorize. "You were very lucky today, knight."

"Yeah, I was. Lucky that you didn't leave me to die there like I probably deserved. Heck, you took a bullet for me, don't tell me it wasn't a risk, because I won't believe that. That armor of yours isn't exactly impenetrable."

That made him huff and turn his back at her again to glare at the darkness outside. "You are under my command. I don't abandon my soldiers in the field."

Groaning, Nora rubbed her forehead. "You _knew_ I was following you."

"Of course I did." If anything, he sounded offended by her surprise. "You weren't exactly stealthy. Besides, I wouldn't have left had you stayed behind. We set out from Prydwen as a team, and we'll return there as a team. What you want - or should - do after that is irrelevant right now."

Nora found no words to reply. Instead, she curled around herself, wishing she could simply disappear.

 

* * *

 


	6. The record

* * *

**[13:41, JAN 27th, 2278]**

 

The beer was cold and it tasted heavenly, despite being just a piss poor imitation of a real, pre-war beer. Nora took a long swig and stretched her legs far enough to hear the joints pop. The metal floor of Prydwen's underbelly was cold, and the steel railing didn't exactly provide a comfortable backrest, but she was determined to not let small things like these ruin her moment.

Deeming her guts to be fully healed in mere three days, all thanks to Danse's handy intervention in the field, Knight Captain Cade had finally released her from bed arrest that morning. He allowed her to have a full meal and a _proper_ drink instead of just water. Sure, he said something about coffee or nuka, at most, but who would listen to that. Not Nora. Not when she still had three more bottles to go and a whole day off duty to do as she pleased. To keep busy. To keep all the fucking thoughts at bay.

The recreational terminal caught her eye when she flipped a bottle cap trying to hit the trashcan and missed, bouncing it off the desk instead. Gathering herself up, she dropped onto the chair and scrolled through the messages.

 

> _"Paladin Eilena moaned softly when knight Clarence approached her. The chest pieces of their armors touched and brushed against one another with a yearning, weeping resonance that reverberated along the supple steel of the frames, reaching Eilena's very core like a shockwave from a nuclear explosion. A gasp escaped her at the tender hum of Clarence's suit's hydraulics while he pressed his helm into her trembling hands._
> 
> _"Please, my darling... do it. I can not possibly wait a moment longer," he purred to her ear._
> 
> _"Love... we shouldn't..." Her hooded eyes sought his and she knew she wouldn't be able to deny that man anything. Biting her lip, the paladin put the helmet on his head and caressed the visor with her fingertips. The piece hissed, sealing itself in place with an almost obscene pop._
> 
> _"We should not, but..." The knight growled, the already masculine sound further enhanced by the helm's modulators. He turned the headlamp on and reached for Eilena's thigh. His armored hand cupped the rounded metal there, marveling at its firm, unyielding excellence. "I beg of you, my beloved paladin... let me see you in your full glory... let me enjoy the sound of the perfectly adjusted servos bending to your will... let me hold my breath as my eyes slide along the flawless curve of your jetpack... let me..."_
> 
> _"Clarence! Ah!"_

Nora sat back in the chair and squinted at the screen. "Power armor porn? Well, damn. I gotta get back to it when I'm slightly more drunk." Giggling to herself, she flipped through the remaining messages.

 

> _"McLaren got his suit wiped out trying to drop from the top of Trinity Tower, so the current record holder is still Petris with his Prydwen-to-ground drop. Remember, no leg armor mods allowed, just a clean jump with standard T-60 and you have to be able to walk away. No exceptions."_

She read and re-read the message, her eyes going wider every time.

"No fucking way!"

Jumping to her feet and nearly falling over in the process, she rushed upstairs, straight to Danse's quarters. At the very last moment she managed to stop herself from just barging inside and knocked on the door instead.

"Why didn't you tell me I could put on my power armor and just jump off the Prydwen?" She demanded of the man the moment he opened the door, failing to notice the dark circles under his eyes. "Why, paladin, WHY?"

Danse blinked and stepped aside to let her in, leaving the door wide open. "I did tell you that the armor negates any and all falling damage. You just weren't listening to me, as usual."

Yes, she was definitely not listening at that moment, either, foolish excitement successfully drowning all common sense. All thoughts and unwanted memories, too. "Let's fly to Trinity Tower. Please?"

"Trinity Tower? For what purpose?" With arms crossed on his chest, he simply stared, and damn if it wasn't making her feel small and silly. "You are obviously intoxicated, I have reports to write, and you can't requisition a vertibird just for a scenic ride, soldier."

"Fuck. Isn't the tower infested with ferals or something?"

"Supermutants. But I still don't--"

"Even better. Come on, Danse, I'll put my power armor on. It will be fun."

"Very well. We can consider it a training exercise for you, then. Meet me on the flight deck in 5 minutes."

 

* * *

**[14:12, JAN 27th, 2278]**

 

"Holy shit, that's high."

For some reason Danse kept looking at her rather than at the miniaturized city below. Alcohol's influence aside, it was refreshing to see the knight so excited, practically bouncing in the recently polished but hardly ever worn suit of armor. And yet, he couldn't help the feeling that he was going to regret allowing this soldier to drag him all the way up there.

"I suggest you get ready before the supermutants realize the vertibird wasn't just passing by." He drew his weapon and headed for the rooftop's fire exit. "There's an emergency radio signal originating from here that we should check. We can enter through there."

"Oh, we're not entering anywhere. We're beating the record."

"We're... what?"

Just as Danse turned to face her, Nora jumped. With a gleeful howl that turned into a panicked shriek half-way through, she threw herself off the edge before he had a chance to react in any way.

The paladin found himself unable to move. Staring at the spot where she was standing a mere moment earlier, he had difficulty processing the situation and his own reaction to it. His subordinate had tricked him. Lied to him to gain personal benefit. However inane and insignificant said benefit had been. He could cite at least a dozen of regulations she had violated with her thoughtless, irresponsible, immature, imprudent stunt. He could report her to the Elder. He could--

Instead, he simply jumped after her, and it took him a moment to realize that the sound he heard along the howling wind was his own laughter. When he slammed into the ground, creating a sizeable crater in the rubble, he felt invincible. He could take on the world with its behemoths, deathclaws and mirelurk queens alike. It was a good feeling. One he hadn't felt in a long time. One he had no idea he had been missing.

"Witness me, Danse!" Nora stumbled into his view, successfully ruining the moment and blinding him with the sunlight reflecting off the chrome-plated parts of her suit. "See that I am still walking! Well, limping, because the right leg completely refuses to bend now, but still. No leg mods installed, so I won, I fucking won!"

"All right, soldier, you owe me an explanation. It better be a good one."

She took off her helm to shoot him a toothy grin. "I owe you more than that. I owe you a drink! And I know just the place in Diamond City to get the best booze you have ever tried. Bobrov's moonshine punches you in the guts like a raging bull at full gallop during a corrida."

Danse stared at her.

"Or like a punch of a heavily modded power armor fist... with rocket boost?"

That got through to him.

"I do not drink on duty," he announced, pulling out his laser rifle and scanning their surroundings. "But we should move out before we draw any more attention. The supermutants are no doubt looking for the source of all the noise already."

"You're no fun." Nora's smile faded as she checked the map for the shortest route to the city's entrance.

"I am a soldier," the paladin shrugged. "I am not supposed to be fun."

"Let's just fucking go, okay?"

 

* * *

 


	7. Masks

* * *

**[18:56, JAN 27th, 2278]**

 

Home Plate was a dark and dusty abode. The door whined when Nora swung it open a little too hard, completely not used to the added strength of the armor she wore. The fuse box only lit up two bare light bulbs closest to it when she flipped the switch, but it was enough to prove that the place was never used.

"I did not know you had your own home here." Danse stopped right by the door, looking around the bare, concrete walls with mild curiosity.

"Well, it's not exactly a home, I haven't even bothered with any clean up or furnishings, as you can see. Still, it's a roof that doesn't leak, and walls without bullet holes. Or windows, for that matter. If nothing else, it's a safe, private place to crash, at least." Nora made her way to the workbench and stepped out of the power armor. "But yes, I did buy it because I wanted to have a home... for me and Shaun, back before--"

Her voice broke and she immediately distracted herself removing the armor pieces from the power frame to expose the malfunctioning right leg. "It seemed like a good idea. Starting anew. There's an actual school here, did you know that? I was so damn excited about it... and Nick agreed with me, he even gave me some caps so I could afford the place..."

"Nick?"

Leaving his own suit behind, Danse came over and handed her the proper wrench when the one she had picked from the messy pile of tools turned out to be too small. She thanked him with a nod.

"Nick's a friend. You wouldn't like him."

"Why do you think so?"

"He likes fun." The ruined leg piece had finally relented and tumbled to the floor, revealing a significant dent in the frame underneath. Nora muttered a curse. "Nick also doesn't mind my cussing. And he's awesome in an argument."

Danse crouched next to her to assess the damage. "You like arguing with your friends?"

"No, it's not like... it's just that Nick doesn't judge, you know? He will absolutely destroy you with logic and sense, and show no mercy while doing it, but he would never say anything that would personally hurt you. Even if he knows all your dirtiest secrets, he won't use them against you, because it's unethical. Because he wouldn't want to cause you pain." Her hands stilled for a moment, remembering Valentine's soothing voice when he did his best to calm her down after Kellogg's death. When he pulled her close and simply held her until she wasn't at risk of falling apart any longer. When she screamed, and swore, and punched his chest, and told him to go away, leave her the fuck alone... Nora flinched at the memory, returning her attention back to the broken actuator in front of her. "Besides, Nick's a detective. Imagine a detective and a lawyer getting into a dispute over a case. Sparks will fly. Literally. Good old Nick."

Seeing that she had no idea how to fix the damage without making it worse, Danse reached for the wrench she was holding, and pushed her clumsy hands away. "I'm afraid I do not understand," he offered, getting to work and dismantling the complex mechanism within moments.

"That's all right. As I said, you wouldn't like him." Relieved that he took over the repairs, Nora gathered herself from the floor and looked towards the darkest end of the apartment. "Let me just get the booze, I have four crates stashed here, I think. There should also be a mattress somewhere we can sit on."

Having the actuator fixed, Danse huffed, muscles quivering as he struggled to straighten the dented element of the armor frame. Nora stopped and watched in silence when he released a frustrated breath, readjusted his grip and tried again, then again, until the stubborn metal obeyed him at last. Sitting back on his haunches, the paladin wiped his forehead with a sleeve and looked up at her. "I told you that I don't drink on duty."

"Damn, but you're strong," she blurted out, her eyes fixed on his biceps. "I mean, I knew these puppies weren't just for show, but it's fucking titanium you just bent with your bare hands..."

The paladin looked over himself, but chose not to comment on her words, pointing to the frame instead. "The metal structure is compromised, so further use of this frame may put you at risk during combat. I am not certain you will be issued a replacement, however. The actuator should last until we get back to the Prydwen, but you will need to have Ingram replace it ASAP."

"I have an almost complete suit of T-45 stashed at Sanctuary, I guess I could bring it in for parts... What?"

"You have your own suit of power armor? How?"

"Found it in Concord when-- ah, never mind, it's a long story. I gotta report to Ingram with my new record anyway, might as well confess that I damaged the armor." Giggling like a schoolgirl, Nora retrieved the moonshine at last and dragged the crates towards a dust covered mattress in the corner. "She'll give me shit for it, no doubt, but I bet my ass she'll give me a pat on the shoulder as well when no one's looking. That woman would be amazing to get in trouble with if only she wasn't so limited by all the fucking rules."

While she plopped down onto the mattress, Danse finished putting the disassembled armor suit back together and quickly rearranged all her tools into something resembling a logical order. "Are you going to explain to me what record you keep talking about?"

When she did, he first glared at her, then stood to pace around the room. "So that's what our soldiers do in their free time? Destroy Brotherhood property in a foolish, pointless contest? How many of them need their suits repaired or replaced after trying to beat that record? How much of precious materials is being wasted fixing that damage? Do you have any idea how irresponsible such behavior is? I am going to report it to the Elder, this has to stop."

With her eyes tightly closed, Nora leaned against the wall and opened a bottle. She took a sip, let the alcohol burn through all the anger that had flared up, and only then did she spoke. "I may still be just a dumb civilian, as you kindly pointed out the other day, but I've been around soldiers for several years, Danse. And if I know one thing about military life, it's that you can't expect of people to be soldiers 24/7, all year round. You gotta let them unwind, you gotta let them leave all the stress and tension behind, forget themselves, even if for just a short while. You gotta let them have some simple, stupid fun, you know? Or they'll end up becoming permanently grumpy, offensive, and frustrated assholes, just like you."

Danse stopped pacing, his back turned to her, fingers clenching and unclenching slowly at his sides. "Thank you for this unsolicited assessment of my personality, soldier."

"You're most welcome, paladin." Nora did her best to play ignorant of the icy tone of his voice, putting the bottle to her lips again, and swallowing the liquid fire as fast as she could. "And, pot calling out kettle though it may be, it wouldn't hurt you to let yourself go in some non-destructive way, either, every once in a while. Go dancing. Or treasure hunting. Whatever you think you'd actually _enjoy_. Because, clearly, what you've been doing so far isn't working."

"Care to elaborate on that?" He padded over, stopping just a small step away, towering above her and looking... sad? Nora handed him a bottle, sighing when he took it and simply held it awkwardly in front of him.

"I've seen your quarters, remember? You picked the lock yourself to let me in, and then you left, so I took a look around. It's all empty whisky bottles and cigarette stubs there. I've seen your file in Cade's terminal, too. Don't growl at me, his fault for keeping all patient info out in the open. Point is, that when I look at you now, like really _look_ , all I see is a very tired man." She patted the mattress next to her, surprised when he did sit down, shooting her a glare. "Come on, Danse. You're wearing a mask, too. You're surviving, not living. Fighting to kill the thoughts with your laser rifle. I get it. I'm just less... professional about it. Less deadly and less fucking elegant."

He looked away. "You're intoxicated, we shouldn't have this conv--"

"No. I'm not drunk enough yet to not know what I'm talking about. Just let me vent it all, maybe you'll get something for yourself out of it, too. All right?" When he made no attempt to interrupt her, Nora put the bottle aside and hugged her knees.

"You were right saying that I'm not a soldier. You should probably stop calling me that, you know. Nate already tried that tactic, kept calling me his little soldier, kept praising, nurturing, hoping I would one day stop struggling and just take orders without a thought. Guess it worked, eventually, but not thanks to _his_ efforts." She snorted and shook her head. "Anyway, I am a damn good shoot, yes. Always have been, and that's all my dad's doing. He was the one who gave me my first rifle and showed me how to use it when I was eleven. I grew up on a farm, you see, with just me and my elderly father to take care of everything and everyone, so I can handle myself in a fist fight, too, I can fix most of mechanical stuff, I've seen enough cows butchered that I don't faint at the sight of guts and blood... None of that makes me a soldier material, though. I was born into a free and simple life, with nothing to restrict me, nothing to cut my wings, until Nate--"

Danse watched her expression change from warm melancholy to apprehension and frustration within seconds. With her eyes narrowed, and lips pursed into a thin line, she battled an inner fear even two hundred years after it was gone. "You don't have to--"

"But I want to. I want someone to know. Scratch that, I want _you_ to know. So shut up... Please."

He nodded. "Very well. Go on, I promise not to judge."

For some reason that statement made her chuckle. "Well, thanks very fucking much, sir. Anyway... Nate. I was seventeen when we met. His car broke down near the farmhouse, so he came seeking help. I fixed it and he asked me out. God, but I was head over heels for him! He was so high above my level, old and rich family, a fucking manor up on a hill, you know the drill... I felt so overwhelmed and happy that a guy like him would even look at me in my overalls, face smeared with grease, and a wrench in hand... So when he took me for a ride, when he put his hand in my pants... I let him. And I was grateful."

When she looked over her shoulder at Danse, there were no tears in her eyes as he had expected. All he saw in them was barely concealed self-loathing. He found no words to say to ease her mind.

"Fucked up my whole life in that single moment, you know. And my dad's. Because I was weak. Stupid. You see, when the inevitable happened, Nate decided that he wanted to spite his mother and have that baby with me rather than get rid of it in secret... His mommy dearest, in turn, had decided to make a lady out of me, probably to spite me. One day when Nate was not around, she promised she would train me like a dog, with a leash and muzzle and a spiked collar, until I was good enough to lick her perfect son's shoes. And she fucking kept her promise. The worst thing was that I couldn't just spit in her spotless fucking face and leave, I had to play along, for the sake of the damned baby. I wouldn't be able to give the kid any future being a single mom on a huge farm that required constant attention. I had to agree when they married us off."

Nora tugged absently at her hair. Without looking at the paladin, she shifted closer to him, making their arms touch. He decided it would be beneficial for her mental state if he did not move away as was appropriate.

"And then I had the gall to lose the baby. How dare I, yeah? As if I couldn't do something right for once, save them all the hassle and miscarry before the wedding, shame on me. But even after that, I was stuck with them, because a divorce would be a disgrace for the family just as much as a bastard child. I couldn't simply run away, either, she would make my dad's life hell, then. I couldn't-- So mommy dearest decided it was best to keep Nate and me apart. He was sent off to some safe military outpost, far from any actual combat. I was forced into law school, it was family tradition, apparently. And I guess I impressed her when I actually graduated. With fucking honors. She eased up on me a little after that, but I do remember that wicked smile when she informed me that my dad had passed away and the farm was lost to pay some hidden debts I'm damn sure dad didn't have. That broke me... so much that I don't really remember the following five or six months."

"I can't even imagine how difficult it had to be for you," Danse offered in a hushed voice after she went silent.

"I think you can. You're just not ready to admit that to yourself, mister I-am-a-soldier-not-a-human-being." The smile she sent him was cheerless, but honest. "So where was I? Ah, my pulling the plug from my own brain... I was told I was functioning like a robot during that time. A fucking Miss Nanny named Nora. They had to tell me to eat, sleep, have a bath. And when I finally woke up from this, I realized life was so much easier that way, the days just went by as if without me, I didn't have to think or worry too much, just do what they wanted and cross off another date from the calendar. So when Nate was back from his paperwork war, we were allowed to move to our own home, in Sanctuary, and Shaun was born just a year later. With his birth, I lost any hope for ever getting out of that cage, but it was okay, because I had my baby to focus on... Then the bombs fell, I woke up in the vault alone, and... and now that I don't have to pretend for Nate's sake, for the baby's sake, for my dad's sake, I can finally dare to be myself again. Not some god damned sophisticated lawyer lady, but a filthy mouthed meaningless nothing from a stinky farm in the plains. Cheers."

Reaching for the bottle at her side, Nora finished it without a pause to take a breath. Once it was empty, she wheezed and coughed until tears welled in her eyes. The pain was good, she decided, and flung the bottle against the opposite wall.

"Well... whatever your extremely biased opinion of yourself is," Danse said once the pieces of glass had settled on the concrete floor, "you _are_ a fine and brave soldier. You never run from a fight, but you aren't careless, either. I have never met anyone as skilled with a sniper rifle as you are. I have been watching you in combat, you make good assessment of the enemy forces and pick your targets wisely. I'm sure we can also put your close combat skills to a good use with the help of power armor. So don't sell yourself short."

"And here you are, praising the shit out of me after I insulted you like a rabid bitch." She nudged his side and leaned against him once more, ignoring how his body tensed at the contact. "You're a damn incredible guy. Look, I know my... conduct annoys you, pisses the heck out of you sometimes, I really do know that. But it's not disrespect for you as a person, or as my superior, you gotta understand this. It isn't, can not be, because I fucking admire you for who you are, okay? You're like that... that perfect soldier from a hero movie, perfect to the point of being absolutely annoying about it, but still fucking perfect. You are what Nate always wanted to be but never had the strength - or balls - to become. So please, always remember that it's nothing against you, it's just just who I fucking am. And I won't apologize for my manners. I won't ever again apologize to anyone for being myself. Not even to you, even though you're the best damn friend I've ever had. The only one, too, now that Nick won't talk to me anymore."

It took her a moment, and a surprised look from the paladin, to realize what she had just said. After a minute or so more, she also realized she had spoken the pure and simple truth: she did consider Danse to be her closest friend, whether the feeling was mutual or not.

"I'll drink to that." Danse uncapped his bottle at last and raised it in a toast. "I do indeed understand you better now. Your emotional situation is very complex. I will make sure to take it under consideration in the future." His eyes turned sad when he took a tiny sip of the booze and turned to face her again. "Thank you for telling me, it couldn't have been easy. You should know, however, that I'm not... perfect. Far from it. You most certainly shouldn't take me as your role model, not after more than a half of my old squad died because of the decisions I made in the field."

"Tell me? Please?"

He was silent for so long, she thought he would simply ignore her request. When, at last, he spoke - staring blankly at the wall, in a voice meticulously devoid of any emotion - he began listing names, as if calling the ghosts to haunt him. "Knight Keane - killed in a raider ambush. Knight Brach - stepped on a landmine. Knight Worwick - shot by raiders. Knight-Sergeant Dawes - killed by supermutants. Knight Rhys - wounded, survived only thanks to your timely intervention. I failed them all. I should have--"

"Are you fucking kidding me? It's tough as hell to live with, sure, any loss is, but how can you fault yourself for any of it? You can't predict all possible situations and outcomes in normal, every day life, let alone in times like these. It's pretty much war all around here: us against mutants, ferals, animals, raiders, gunners, against fucking radstorms, giant flies, and mosquitoes. It's war, people die regardless of how well you protect them... and I know it from personal experience that you are willing to do just about anything to keep your people safe, including letting a sniper shoot at your power armor's back and risk him hitting the power core. Yeah, I've done some research on that while Cade kept me chained to the bed. No officer could possibly do more for his soldier, Danse. None."

He nodded, but refused to look at her. "Perhaps... but it still wasn't enough to save them... they died under my command, how can anyone have confidence in me anymore? How can I have confidence in myself?"

"Well, fuck. I trust you with my life, for what it's worth. Heck, you had your hands in my guts and you took out the bullet that would kill me. You have already saved me more than once. Then there's Rhys. Why do you think he hates me so much? Because he is jealous of all the praise and attention I get from his idol. And Haylen? She would go into fire for you as well. She looks up to you at least as much as I do. You're a goddamn hero, Danse, and not just for me."

"Thank you." His cheeks turned pink at all the praise... and it was a damn fine look on him. "I may be your sponsor, but it was you who taught me a lesson today, sol-- knight."

"Not without annoying the heck out of you first. All in a day's work." She smiled at him and, to her surprise, he smiled back, with that reserved, but genuine smile of his that was too fucking rare a sight. "Now haul your heroic ass upstairs, paladin, there's a bed there. The sheets are probably dusty, but clean, so get some sleep. Or just try to, all right? If nothing else, at least let your body rest on a proper mattress for a while. God knows the beds on the Prydwen are less comfortable than the floor they stand on. I'll happily pass out here for the night as well in a bit. And before you start finding any excuses, we're safe in Diamond City, the doors are locked, too, so there's no need to keep watch."

 

* * *

 


	8. Cigarette break

* * *

**[01:33, MAR 7th, 2278]**

The stillness was suffocating him. The air would not move, even the guards outside the door had stopped patrolling along the Prydwen's walkways, probably just dozing off at their designated posts. Nothing to keep thoughts occupied, nothing to distract. If Nora was there, she would notice his discomfort, drag him outside for a walk, or offer to teach him another game of cards with an almost complete deck she found a while ago. She would, but she was not there. It had been two weeks since she left the Prydwen to deal with some _fucking important business_. Two weeks without any means to contact her, make sure she was safe...

Danse shifted under the covers and threw an arm over his eyes. The dull pain at the back of his skull was relentless, successfully ruining any attempts at sleep. Perhaps that was for the best, though, considering that sleep rarely meant rest anyway.

A ridiculous thought hit him like a... how did she say that... like a bull at a... corrida? He would have to research that word... a thought that he had become increasingly more restless ever since Nora Davenport appeared at the Cambridge Police Station.

Sitting up and placing bare feet on the cold metal floor, the paladin looked around his quarters. He had cleaned up the bottles and dirty glasses first thing after they returned from Diamond City, but the place still reeked of frustration. It seemed empty now. Unoccupied.

Perhaps she was right, perhaps he was indeed going about it the wrong way. Perhaps dulling the senses with alcohol was not the only way, even if it seemed to be the way she chose herself. Perhaps--

Well, whatever the correct assessment of his actions was, it no longer mattered. He put a stop to it the moment he became a sponsor again. Her sponsor. Not that it was easy to achieve and maintain. Far from it. The nights would drag mercilessly unless he kept watch. If he didn't - if there weren't reports to write, armor pieces to fix, weapons to clean - then lack of activity would instantly trigger him back into the past, with all the what ifs, regrets, and painful memories.

With Cutler's face, still recognizable despite the repulsive muscle growth under the thick, green skin. The man's whiskey-brown eyes that looked right at him, frightened, bloodshot with pain, pleading, and... so very grateful when Danse put a gun to his-- to the abomination's temple.

He killed a part of himself that day, and he kept his distance ever since, from everyone. Ever the professional, always cold, some would say aloof... while, in truth, he was just being a coward. Afraid to form a bond with a fellow soldier, for fear of losing them, of having to cope with that gaping wound deep inside of him again.

Yes, life had definitely become more difficult for Danse after _she_ stumbled into it, no doubt about that.

A bit foolhardy, but smart enough to get out of trouble on her own. Wicked good with a gun, and most tools, but not showing any of it off for praise. Tongue sharper than a bayonet, she would give hell to anyone trying to step on her toes. Trying to boss her around just to exercise superiority, always ended with your ego suffering. She wasn't unapproachable, though. On the contrary. She would personally choose the ones worthy of her trust, and never let them doubt they have it. Just like a cat.

Just like Cutler.

Danse winced. Was that the reason why he asked for her help? Why he offered her his own favorite rifle as a reward? Why he wanted her in the Brotherhood?

Running a slightly trembling hand through his tousled hair, Danse stood and slipped into his uniform. Fully dressed, he padded straight to the power armor stands, and let out a relieved sigh when the suit closed around him in a protective embrace. Oblivious to curious looks and disgruntled hisses from those he woke up passing by them, he made his way outside.

The night was cloudless, with the near-full moon hanging low above the hills in the distance, and myriads of stars flickering against the pitch black backdrop of the sky. Below the ship, lights moved at the airport's gates as the guards kept to their patrol routes. Danse watched them for a while. He enjoyed the sense of belonging, being a part of something as important as the Brotherhood, where everything worked like a well oiled machine. Every soldier had their place, every one had their own part to play. Every single one was important, essential. It was soothing. Reassuring. Constant.

And then there was Nora. The one cog in the mechanism that kept resonating, no matter how often he tried to make her fit into the schematics...

Danse kept walking towards the shuttle vertibird, but when the sleepy lancer made a move to start the engine and transport him down, the paladin stopped him with a gesture and turned around to face the opposite, empty docking bay. One step forward and he was falling, air whistling in the suit's hooks and crevices, until the impact shook him to his core, bringing that giddy exhilaration of being invincible once again.

Did her not fitting in have to be a bad thing, though? Did he absolutely have to go out of his way to turn her into a perfectly obedient soldier? Wouldn't that make him no better than that despotic mother-in-law of hers? Hadn't she been through enough already?

A few approving whoops greeted the paladin when he approached the guards, but he did not stop by for the compliments they wanted to offer on the drop. Instead, he kept going until he reached the very edge of the ocean. Once he found a spot elevated enough that the waves of salty water wouldn't reach the armor, he stepped out and leaned against it, facing the dark horizon and enjoying the chilly air.

There was a long-forgotten pack of Grey Tortoise cigarettes in a hidden compartment of the armor's chest piece, tucked right next to the first aid kit. He stumbled upon it while patching Nora up... kneeling in a puddle of her blood, watching helplessly as her eyes rolled back into her skull, so whiskey-brown and bloodshot... and so very frightened, no matter how tough she had played it

It took three frustrated attempts before the match had finally caught and he could take a long drag of the pre-war tobacco smoke. He let it all out slowly through the nose, staring at the silvery wisps dissolving in the darkness.

All those months of meticulously keeping himself outside the Prydwen's community - of rejecting any attempts at socializing from others, all the effort to remain detached - everything had gone down the proverbial gutter, and he knew it. She considered him a friend... and the feeling was mutual.

"Danse? Hah, I knew it was you, I'd recognize that T-60 anywhere. What the fuck are you doing down here at this time of night, hmm?"

Surprised, he tossed the cigarette into the water and spun on his heel to face her. "All T-60 suits look alike, knight," he offered, wincing at the sight of a prominent scar across her forehead that wasn't there two weeks earlier.

"Yours has a few nicks on the left shoulder piece and--" Noticing his glare, Nora ran a finger along her mangled skin. "Mirelurk queen," she explained with a hint of excitement in her voice. "Big bad angry bitch. But I got her. And then ate her. Was actually quite tasty."

Danse huffed and pulled another Grey Tortoise out of the crumpled pack. He should have gone with her. He should have insisted, no matter how much she had objected saying she needed to go alone.

"Don't be a meanie, share some." She did not bother to wait until he offered, helping herself to a cigarette and lighting it with her own match. For a while, they smoked in surprisingly comfortable silence, until the wind blew some of his smoke into her face.

"Ah, fucking hell!" Coughing and wheezing, she held onto his arm for support. Before he could stop himself, Danse reached out to hold her elbow until she could take a full breath again.

"Confession time, sir. I don't actually smoke. Was just puffing here... you looked so fucking cool, leaning against your suit, cig in hand, moonlight and all, that I wanted to join you."

A smile tugged at the corner of Danse's mouth, but he crushed it with a frown, and prompted a change of subject. "Elder Maxson wants to see us, he told me to get you for a briefing as soon as you return."

She chortled a that. "That exactly what he said, huh? Well, damn, I am not gonna pass on such an opportunity. Let's be dutiful soldiers and wake him up right now. I'd be delighted to interrupt his beauty sleep."

"I am certain it can wait until the morning." Pretending to not notice her disappointed pout, the paladin re-entered his armor and led the way back to the airport. "Why are you always so eager to spite him, anyway?"

"He's got a stick up his ass," she replied with a shrug and fell in step with him, dragging a bit behind with the added weight of a supply bag she was carrying. "I don't like such people."

Danse lifted an eyebrow. "Some of the knights would say I fit that description as well."

"Bullshit. You just act like you are a stiff bastard, but you're actually not one. Big difference."

He stopped, tried to say something, but found no words when she grinned up at him. Instead, he reached for her duffel bag and slung it over his armored shoulder. "Let's go."

 

* * *

 


	9. The General

* * *

**[06:01, MAR 7th, 2278]**

 

Maxson didn't bother to greet them when they entered his observation room just a bit before sunrise. Facing the window and pretending to not notice their arrival, the man pointedly ignored them for a few minutes, earning himself a huff and an eyeroll from Nora.

"You wanted to see me," she snapped at last, disregarding Danse's exasperated sigh.

The Elder turned around, making a show of it as he put his hands behind his back and approached them at an infuriatingly slow pace.

"I hope you enjoyed your vacation, knight Davenport." His voice was the epitome of calm, but the slightly hissy way he spoke the words left nothing to the imagination. He was furious. "Do remember that such long R&R time is a privilege I do not grant often. And certainly not to fresh recruits who haven't proven their worth yet."

Nora snorted. "Dare say I'm pulling my weight here doing reckon missions with Danse, escorting scribes, and hauling in tons of documentation for Quinlan. Just the other day we've taken over plenty of medical equipment from a mutant infested hospital. I'm sure Cade wrote a nice report for your reading pleasure. I even got shot on the job in case you didn't know that."

"Getting yourself injured is hardly something to brag about, soldier. Unless you're proud of your incompetence, of course." Offering her a pitying look that bordered on an insult, Maxson heaved a sigh. "Let me remind you what your mission is, knight, because it seems to me that you kept yourself so busy with trivialities, you have forgotten all about it. Your ultimate goal, and the only excuse for your presence in the Brotherhood, is finding the way inside the Institute. And so far, you have given me absolutely nothing." He lifted a hand, stopping her before she had a chance to speak again. "But, perhaps, you will at least manage to help me deal with a newly emerged problem. A couple of days ago, a group of local peasants who call themselves the Minutemen, took over their old base at Fort Independence, and set up a powerful radio station there. Thus, from a gathering of several uncoordinated settlements, they have become a somewhat organized force we can no longer ignore. As much as I loathe making any kinds of arrangements with civilians, I want you to go out there, find that elusive General of theirs, and issue a warning. They are to stay out of the Brotherhood's way... or face the consequences."

Nora clenched her fingers to fists and made a small step forward, glaring up at the man. "And pray tell, _Elder_ , what will those consequences be? Will you send power armor and miniguns against flannel shirts and laser muskets? Will you have a squad of knights raze farms to the ground, burn crops, salt the soil, and pile corpses to burn them? Is that your fucking way of coming in peace to save the Commonwealth?"

"Control yourself, knight, remember who you're talking to."

"As if anyone could for one single damn moment forget you're the overlord here. The god almighty with a fucking monopoly on greatness, and a shit ton of stuff to compensate for if this ship is anything to go by!"

Danse's heavy hand landed on her shoulder, holding her in place. "That's enough, knight!"

She shrugged him off, failing to notice the plea behind his warning. "Not just yet. You know, for all the ranting you two keep up about how you would like to win the Commonwealth's hearts and minds, you have no fucking clue how to actually earn people's trust." Turning to face the paladin, she poked his armored chest with an accusatory finger. "And before you say anything, Danse, charity is not a weakness. Helping people, even strangers, is an act of fucking courage. If I followed your way of thinking, you, Haylen and Rhys would be a bunch of rotting corpses gnawed on by ferals now."

When the paladin's intent stare faltered and turned towards the ground, Nora faced Maxson again. "Fortunately, because I fucking refuse to be indifferent, here we all are... and I just happen to be that elusive General of the Minutemen. And I say: fuck you, Elder Maxson. We are free people, this is our land, we do what we want, and you can not bully us."

"So _that_ was the important business you needed to take care of?" Danse blurted out, taking a step away from her. "Retaking the Castle from mirelurks?"

"Leave us, Danse." A muscle kept twitching on Maxson's cheek when he barked the order, turning away from both of them once more.

"Sir?"

"You are dismissed, Paladin."

"I-- yes, sir." Danse caught Nora's gaze and shook his head. _Please, don't,_ he mouthed and left, heading for the upper deck.

After an uncomfortably long moment of silence, Maxson gestured for Nora to come closer. They stood arm in arm in front of the window, each pointedly glaring through the dirty glass at the city ruins looming in the distance.

"We are not a charity organization, make no mistake of that, knight Davenport. You are allowed to be one of us because you are an asset. Just like every other soldier under my command, you serve a purpose." Maxson took a conversational approach but kept his tone alarmingly close to a growl. "You possess first-hand knowledge of the pre-war world and its technology, knowledge that the Brotherhood can and will utilize to advance its goals. Yes, I have been tolerating your disrespect for my rank, and - as it has just turned out - your withholding vital information from me, because I know you have some sort of personal agenda in getting inside the Institute. I let you keep your secrets because I assumed our goals were identical in that regard. That said, when I give an order, I expect results, so be aware that my patience is not limitless, and that I have means to make you cooperate whenever I deem it necessary."

Nora exhaled slowly. "Let _me_ remind _you_ , almighty Elder, that I joined your merry band of warmongers only because it suited my purposes at the time. I have not signed any contracts, made no blood sacrifices, and I sure as heck haven't promised you anything. So I can leave whenever I damn well please unless you plan to stop me by cuffing me to this fucking ship and making me your slave."

"Interesting thought." He had the gall to smile sweetly at her. "No one is going to stop you, of course, you're not exactly deep enough in our structures to pose any security risk. I pity paladin Danse, though. His career would take a sharp turn if the recruit he praised so much, one he personally brought into the fold and vouched for, turned out to be nothing more than a worthless opportunist seeking to... hmm, let's say... weaken the Brotherhood's position in the Commonwealth. Or even better, destroy us from within while working for the Institute. Such a hit for his reputation, such a shame for his rank, wouldn't you say? I would have to demote him, of course. Strip him of privileges. Restrict his access to power armor. The great Danse, reduced to a mere pushover. Imagine that."

"You wouldn't dare. He's your most loyal soldier, you fucking bastard, and you know it."

"No one is irreplaceable, so why don't you try me, Knight? I dare you. You seem to like challenges, take this one, then."

Nora spun on her heel and ran for the flight deck exit. In a blur, she rushed past the door and along the empty walkways, until she reached the ship's stern and couldn't run any further from the man who had just put her in chains. Clutching the railing, she stared into the abyss before her, her eyes wide and unseeing as a temptation to just end it all once and for all had settled in.

 

* * *

 


	10. Confessions

* * *

**[07:22, MAR 7th, 2278]**

 

"You should have told me."

Of course _Danse_ would be the one to come look for her, the one to see her sitting all pathetic, and broken, and utterly defeated on the Prydwen's deck.

"Whatever for?" Nora rasped, refusing to look at the man. "So you could lecture me how Minutemen are just a bunch of useless idiots to you? No, thanks."

He shifted on his armored feet. "And what makes you think I would react like that?"

"Oh, come on. It's what Maxson would say. Heck, it's what he said about Minutemen even before he knew about my involvement with them."

"I am not Maxson." Did he sound hurt? Disappointed? Angry? Nora could not decide. "I would certainly not approve of dividing your attention between the Brotherhood and the Minutemen General's duties, but I'd be the first to admit that their cause is noble."

Disappointment, then. She sighed, finally registering that cold had seeped through the uniform right to her bones, making her shiver. "Thank you. It... means a lot coming from you."

The moment she looked up at him, Danse realized two things. One, she had been crying and seemed on the verge of breakdown. He had never seen Nora in such a state before, and he couldn't quite imagine what must have happened between her and Maxson to bring her to tears like that. Two, she only wore a light uniform meant to be used indoors or under thick armor, and it absolutely did not protect her from the nearly lethal cold up there. Having no idea how to act on his first observation, the paladin focused his full attention on the second one.

"You need to get inside before you freeze to death."

"I'm not going one step closer to that son of a bitch." Nora dismissed his idea with a fierce shake of her head. Her childish defiance was immediately ruined when she had to put a trembling hand to her lips and bite on the knuckles to stifle a sob. "Don't make me go back there. Please."

Clenching his teeth so hard he could feel his jaw protest, Danse considered the options. "Very well. You do need to get up, however."

While she was obediently gathering herself from the floor, her movements sluggish and crippled by how much her body was shaking, he got out of the power armor.

"Get in, knight. You are on the verge of hypothermia, the suit will warm you up and keep the cold away."

"But... what about you? I don't want you to be cold just because--"

"We're only going down to the airport, I'll get by." He helped her step onto the frame's foot supports and waited until it closed around her. "Besides, I put on warm socks this morning, so you needn't worry."

"Did you just make a joke to cheer me up, paladin?" There was a smile in her helmet-distorted voice. It brought unexpected relief to Danse's tense muscles.

"I was not joking," he protested anyway. "Small steps now. The suit will try to adjust and compensate as much as possible, but you're quite a bit smaller than me, so be careful while walking."

"Sir, yes, sir."

She looked downright ridiculous, wobbling after him and occasionally losing her balance for a moment, while he led the way to the docking bay. They got more than one curious look down at the airport's landing pad, and then inside the partially collapsed terminal, but under Danse's glare, none of the initiates or guards dared to make any comments. Not to their faces, at least.

After a bit of meandering along passages and corridors, the two had finally reached a small, somewhat secluded area at the building's second level. Under the intact roof, several old vinyl couches still littered the former VIP lounge. There was even a moldy carpet in the far end, and it still had some semblance of color to it. If not for chunks of the walls missing and a generous fire crackling away inside an old oil barrel in the center, Nora would consider the place really well preserved, all things considered.

Danse dropped onto the couch closest to the fire. He reached out his hands to the flames, rubbing them vigorously, but remained silent. Guessing that he was waiting for her, Nora opened the suit and stumbled out. Cold air clawed against her freshly warmed skin, bringing more shivers, but at least her teeth weren't chattering, thank god for small mercies. Leaving a fond caress on the suit's metal arm, she sat next to the paladin and leaned against him slightly.

"Thank you."

He nodded, not looking at her. "What did Maxson say to make you so... upset?"

With a sigh, Nora put her clasped hands between her knees and squeezed until they hurt. "He was just being a dick."  

Danse nodded again, his eyes stubbornly fixed on the flames. "I have some... questions for you. Would that be a good moment for me to ask, or should I wait?"

"Shoot."

"All right.” Even with her consent, he still hesitated, unsure how to put his thoughts into words in a way that would be accurate. It was not easy. Never had been for him. “I… know that you needed a new purpose in your life after you found out about your son's fate, but there is something I need you to clarify for me. Why did you come to the Brotherhood at all if you had your Minutemen? Now that I got to know you better, I'd say your… place is with them, not… us."

“It’s… probably true. Fuck, what am I saying, it’s totally true, yes.” Carding trembling fingers through her hair, Nora risked a glance at the paladin. She quickly turned away when their eyes did not meet. “Problem was that I needed someone who would guide me, who would be strong for me without choking me, who would teach me how to live again, in this fucked up world. What I did _not_ need was being made responsible for people's lives, and that's basically what being a Minuteman is all about."

"In a military organization, of any kind, be it the Brotherhood or Minutemen, becoming a leader is one of the most difficult tasks one can face." Danse finally looked at her, his eyes somber and weary. "Every decision you make can cost someone's life."

"Exactly... and you have to have a lot of strength in you to not let the responsibility destroy you, to be... fuck, I don't know... worthy of it, I guess. Like you are." Nora embraced herself and moved to the very edge of the seat to get a little closer to the fire. "Problem with me is that I've had to play strong all my fucking life. For dad, for my first baby, then for Shaun. There was always something that would fall apart if I just... gave up for five fucking minutes. And what happened first thing after I stumbled out of the vault? Preston fucking Garvey asked for my help."

The paladin lifted his scarred eyebrow. "Explain?"

"Right, you have no idea who he is. Preston is the last surviving, active Minuteman after Quincy massacre. He led some civilians away from that town, but lost most of them on the way. They ended up in Concord, ambushed by raiders, with pretty much no chance to survive. It just so happened that I went to Concord first thing after I woke up, to seek other survivors, to ask around about Shaun. We stumbled upon each other there and Preston asked for my help. I have never killed a man before that, but I have never been shot at, either, so... I picked up that stupid laser musket and I helped, and it turned out I saved five good lives that day. We decided to stick together for a bit, even started building a shelter in the ruins where my old house was... you and I passed by it on our way to the vault, remember?"

"I remember," Danse confirmed, his voice warmed by a shade of admiration that wasn't there before. "I also remember that you wanted to circle around the settlement rather than go through it, so I assume things did not end well between you and that Minuteman."

"Yeah. He saw something in me that wasn't there, so he made me his general, just like that. Being naive like a virgin and idealistic like a baby, he wanted the two of us on a mission to rebuild the Minutemen. Idiocy, I thought, but it was still a... good cause. A good enough reason to keep myself together, focused instead of panicking. So I stupidly agreed. Out of respect for what he was trying to achieve when no else gave a shit, I suppose. Or maybe because of those big pleading eyes of his. Hell if I know why exactly. And, fuck, I tried to be what he needed me to be, god knows I really did, but... he was relentless, he kept demanding more and more of me, and I had my son to find, my whole damn world to piece back from the ashes, I couldn't be his fucking savior, not when I needed one myself... so I... we had a nasty fight, and I ran away from him at the first opportunity. That's how I ended up in Diamond City... saving Nick's shiny ass to get help from him. Shit, now that I think of it, it all sounds like a cheap drama movie."

"It does seem like nothing has ever been easy for you." Danse admitted with a small, reassuring nod. "But... considering what you have just told me, how did you end up in the Castle?"

"Well, Preston has not given up on me, imagine that, even despite all the... words I'd said before I left. And don't you smile like that, paladin, I know that you know I can be a rude bitch. So Preston kept in touch through caravans. I'm easy to identify, what with the pip-boy and all, so he kept leaving messages for me with them about new settlements he had recruited. See what I mean? Garvey is such a persistently good guy that he kept making sure I knew where I could go if I needed supplies or safe rest. That's why I always have a chat when we meet a traveling trader, by the way, and you always get pissed that I am wasting time. So yeah, Preston continued just fine without me, turns out he didn't need me at all. It was really... a courtesy that he asked for my help with the castle at all, because right now, all these people follow him, not me. It's only because he stubbornly refuses to take over that I get to still be the general."

The paladin mulled over this for a while, absently rubbing a stiffened muscle in his neck. "You may only be a titular general for the Minutemen, but... you fought Elder Maxson for them today. I do not approve of how you did it, but that does not change the fact that you remained loyal to them and they should appreciate that. Which brings me to my other question. Why are you still here, with the Brotherhood? Surely, by the time you got shot, you knew what Brotherhood stands for, and I have given you a clear way out as well. Yet you stayed, despite being obviously uncomfortable with some, if not most, of our guiding principles. Why don't you leave now? It's not like you need the Brotherhood for anything anymore, certainly not while you have the Minutemen at your disposal. I just... do not understand, you would be much better off with them."

Well, that fucking stung. Even if it shouldn't have, even if it was the truth. Feeling as her throat constricted painfully, Nora stood and approached a pile of neatly chopped wooden furniture on the floor nearby. Tossing a few pieces into the flames, she used one to poke at the fire and wring even more warmth out of it.

"It will probably sound childish, or naive, or whatever," she spoke when she was sure her voice would not break, "but... I really like what you and I are doing. Together, as a team. Not as Brotherhood soldiers, not as saviors for the Commonwealth, but as just Danse and Nora."

She could feel his eyes on her, see him lean forward on the couch, all tense and attentive, but she could not look him in the eyes, not yet.

"I've learned so much... no, fuck that, I've learned _everything_ from you about surviving in this world, about all the new things that didn't exist in my time, about new weapons, new tools, new modifications. You've taught me what to eat and what to avoid, how to check whether water is clean or poisonous before I drink it, how to kill a mirelurk, a supermutant, and a fucking bloatfly before it spits its maggots at me and I die of revulsion. Remember that one time, at the very beginning, when we ran into a whole colony of radroaches? Remember how I shrieked and pretty much climbed up your power armor to your shoulders because I was so fucking terrified of them? Yeah. They were the first mutated creatures I encountered after I woke up, and it was you who had taught me how to not be afraid of them anymore. Not Preston Garvey, not Elder fucking Maxson, not any of the others I've met. You. Well, shit, guess what I'm trying to say is that I stayed for you. Not for the Brotherhood, not for its mission. Just for you, Danse."

There was more than just one truth in that statement now, after Maxson's blackmail, and there she was, standing with a sooty piece of ancient furniture in hand, crying gross tears straight into the fire. If she wasn't feeling so raw and vulnerable, she would probably laugh at herself right then and there.

Danse, however, was staring at her... as if she had revealed the deepest, most terrible secret of the whole fucking universe to him. Eyes wide, mouth open, he was the epitome of... shocked? Surprised? Awed? All three? Nora swallowed hard and finally tossed the wood into the flames.

"Say something, Danse... please. Anything."

"I... didn't know you felt so strongly about... us," he blurted out, standing up, then dropping back on the dirty cushions. "I am glad you stayed. Even if its difficult for me to form a... bond, I appreciate your honesty. And your friendship."

Nora had no idea what reaction she had expected after her... confession, but this carefully worded, reserved statement wasn't exactly on the list. She didn't quite feel rejected, but... despite his words, she did not feel all too welcome, either.

"Yeah, well, I promise not to make such a mess of myself ever again. I know it's not within your duties to deal with snotty, emotionally compromised idiots." _Yes, fake smile number five and soldier on, Davenport._ With an awkward pat on Danse's shoulder, she brushed past him and headed for the stairs. "Think I'd better go up and grab a coat. And maybe--"

"His name was Cutler." Danse spoke so quietly that she almost missed it. "And he was the only close friend I had... until now."

 

* * *

 


	11. The detective

* * *

**[15:30, APR 15th, 2278]**

"I think you should stay on point in there," Danse announced when they approached Diamond City's entrance. He watched the massive gate being slowly lifted up for them with a hand on his rifle and wariness on his face. "You have the ease of talking to civilians that I will never achieve."

Looking over her shoulder, Nora flashed him a grin. "That's only because you lack practice, paladin. You are a charming guy when you put your mind to it."

"I would appreciate it if you stopped making fun of me," No real rebuke in his voice, Danse took a step forward and looked down at her with a purposefully overdone frown.

"I would never!" She placed a hand on her heart. "Also, people would be much less intimidated if you left the power armor behind, like I have." Her smile faded. "I know it's Maxson's tactics to show off power and bully, but if you want people to help you, you actually need to look helpless. At least a tiny bit. You're never gonna pull that off stomping around like a fucking tank ready for war."

"A soldier of the Brotherhood is never helpless," Danse recited without hesitation.

"Aaand back to square one with that attitude. Eh, to think that I actually hoped for making a progress here. Oh, well." Rolling her eyes, Nora headed for the stairs, acknowledging the gate guards with a nod, and turning again to the paladin once he followed. "At least put the rifle away, please? There is no one in this city you'd need to use it on, I promise."

It took him a while, but eventually he did holster the weapon. "You still haven't told me why we are here."

A sigh escaped her. _Gotta give Maxson what he wants or we're both screwed_ wasn't exactly something she could share with the man. He simply would not believe her. Instead, she forced on a smile. "We'll start from visiting Nick. And then we'll see where the investigation takes us."

"Investigation? I do not understand."

Danse was confused, but she could hardly blame him. Knowing damn good and well that once they entered Valentine's office all hell was going to break loose, Nora was determined to prolong the peace between them for as long as she possibly could. Especially after their recent heart-to-heart that seemed to have brought them much closer to each other.

"You'll see." Stopping by the inconspicuous door in a narrow passage between makeshift houses, she took a deep breath and faced the paladin. "Before we go in... you do know that I trust you with my life, yes?"

His bewilderment growing, the man confirmed with a solemn nod.

"Thanks. Do you... trust me as well, Danse? Do you trust my judgment?"

"What's this all about?" A frown twisted his features. Not a good sign.

"Just answer me, please. It's... important."

Rolling his shoulders, Danse nodded once more. "I do trust your judgment, of course. I would not willingly go into battle, or share sensitive, personal information with someone I did not trust. Now, are you going to tell me what is going on, or--"

"You'll... see in a moment. First, I need you to give me a promise that you will follow my lead in there. That you won't do anything harsh. Please."

"I will not make such a promise unless I can fully assess the situation, which I am unable to do with you apparently blocking some vital information."

Nora rubbed her temple in hope to prevent a headache from building up. "So much for your trust in my judgment, hmm?" Emotional blackmail. She had really sunk low this time...

Danse's nostrils flared as he narrowed his eyes. "Fine. You have my promise, but do not make me regret this decision, knight."

_Oh, I most definitely will make you regret it._

"Outstanding," she said out loud, mimicking his usual tone and offering the man a grateful smile. "Let's get inside, then."

A cloud of cigarette smoke was hanging near the ceiling, making the cramped interior seem even smaller and darker that it really was. Stacks of papers and overflowing filing cabinets, Diamond City Radio humming softly in the background, and a pair of battered desks completed the image of a classic, pre-war detective's office. Hearing the door's tired whine, Valentine's assistant lifted her gaze from the files she'd been looking over to greet potential new clients.

"I can't believe it!" Ellie gasped when she had recognized Nora, and rushed to give the other woman a quick hug. Despite a curious glance at the armored paladin standing awkwardly at the threshold, she did not ask. "We've lost any hope of ever seeing you again. Such a lovely surprise. Boss, you better come down here!"

"Damn good to see you, Ellie." Managing a smile despite her nerves being ready to snap, Nora reached into a travel bag slung over her shoulder, and pulled out a bottle from it. "Think he'll forgive me if I offer this as a peace token?"

Ellie looked the intact, pre-war bottle of bourbon over and whistled. "He'd be foolish not to, but I think that the whole forgiving deed is already done. You know Nick, he's the understanding one, and... you had all the reasons to--"

"Let's not dwell on the past," a pleasantly rough voice interrupted them, and Valentine himself appeared, coming in from the side room. He looked almost casual without his trademark coat and hat on, definitely a little smaller than Nora had remembered him. More fragile. Or was it Danse's suddenly overwhelming presence behind her back that made him seem so? Swallowing hard, Nora looked up into the synth's eyes, finding exactly what she was hoping for in their soothing, warm yellow light.

"I'm so damn sorry for all I said, Nicky," she whispered, pressing the bottle into his metal hand. "I was a fucking bitch."

"No, doll. You were a grieving mother, who had lost everything," he corrected with a smile, accepting her somewhat desperate embrace... which was the only reply she could muster at that moment. "Now, care to introduce me to your big angry companion before he shoots my head off?"

Nora pulled away and wiped her eyes with the back of a hand. "Yes, of course. This is paladin Danse, he's saved my life more times than I can count, and he's my best friend... who would never shoot my other friend just because he has a few metal parts, right?"

The paladin was furious, both anger and disappointment radiating from him in palpable waves, yet he somehow did manage to keep his promise for the moment. His hand hovered over the stock of the rifle, however, restless and ready to draw it at any moment. "Abomination," he hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes boring into the synth.

"Well, good afternoon to you too," Nick countered, placing the bourbon on the desk and focusing on opening it.

With a huff, Danse turned his glare to Nora, nailing her to the floor right where she stood. "No machine should be allowed to have free will, knight. We can not let--"

"Why?" Valentine cut in, recklessly drawing the paladin's attention back to himself. "You jealous you had to turn yours in for that shiny suit of armor?"

Growling, Danse readied his rifle and switched the safety to off. "You disgust me!"

"Not much of a sight yourself, you know." Nick did not even bother to look up, lining a set of four mismatched glasses in front of him and pouring a generous portion of the rare alcohol into each.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Stop that! Both of you!" Yanking Danse's rifle down from where it was trained on the detective, Nora placed herself right in front of the man. Looking up into his narrowed eyes, she slammed her small fist against the metal-covered chest. "You fucking promised! Is your word worth so little to you?"

"My word does not matter when you expect me to break all possible regulations, knight," he bellowed at her. "When you're breaking them yourself by sympathizing with this thing!"

It was Nora's turn to look hurt and disappointed. "I was only expecting you to be my friend, nothing more... but if it's too fucking hard for you to do, then do it for your beloved Elder, because Nick's the only _person_ who can help us find a way inside the Institute."

Danse's eyes went wide at that revelation. "Are you telling me that all these months you've been withholding such vital information from me? That you have been lying to me, pretending you had no clues, focusing on less important tasks instead to distract me? Why would you do that? Why would you stop now?"

"Ask Maxson, I'm sure he'll be fucking delighted to explain it to you in detail," she snapped before her brain could stop her. "Now, can we focus on the case here? Or would you rather go back to the Prydwen and have me handle all of it by myself? Because I can absolutely do that if it saves me from your righteous fucking anger."

"I will most certainly give the Elder a full report." Danse stepped back, letting out a sound half-way between a growl and a snarl while holstering the weapon. "I am going to keep an eye on you." He did not specify whether he meant just Nick, or both the synth and the distraught knight at his side.

"Please do!" Valentine chuckled. "I'll feel much safer with such a heavily armored guardian angel watching over me, so let's drink to that." Once Ellie helped herself to one of the glasses, he handed two to Nora, and raised the last one in a toast to her. "Thanks, doll, you sure know what kind of coolant this old machine likes best."

Holding the drinks in a white-knuckled grip, she shot him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about all this... I really hoped that... shit, Danse is a good guy, Nicky, he really is, he's just... the Brotherhood... I--"

"Do not talk about me as if I was not present, soldier." The paladin hissed, refusing to look at any of them, his slitted eyes focused on the opposite wall. "And don't you dare vilify the Brotherhood to comfort a synth."

The detective watched the man with growing interest. When no more insults came, he lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Leaning against the desk, he let the bluish smoke slowly waft through the holes in his neck instead of exhaling it through his mouth. "Yeah, I see what you meant there, doll."

Nodding, Nora downed her own drink, then the one meant for Danse. The slow burn of the alcohol traveling along her guts did nothing to prevent tears from welling in her eyes.

It sure as fuck was a quick - and painful - ending of the beautiful friendship.

 

* * *

 


	12. Disasters

* * *

**[23:12, APR 21st, 2278]**

 

Damn but Magnolia knew how to use that voice of hers. The tune was catchy, the words were funny and frivolous - best possible combination... and _manual labor_ , indeed. Nora found herself giggling and swaying in her seat, something she hadn't done in... well, centuries. Even the watered down scotch Charlie had been serving her, tasted better than it had any right to.

Why was no one dancing, though? The floor sure had enough space left for a few bodies to move around to the rhythm... shit, maybe dancing wasn't something you were supposed to do in a post-apocalyptic world. Maybe all you could do was survive from day to day, always looking over your shoulder, sleeping with a gun under your pillow, waiting for radiation to finally take the better of you. Maybe that's all there was to life in that time. Maybe she was being a soulless monster for even thinking about anything even remotely entertaining when--

"Hey, doll." Nick dropped onto the battered couch next to her, his glowing gaze turning to Magnolia's swaying hips. "Come here often?"

Nora shook her head, but failed to hide a smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. "Just when I'm trying to forget. To not think about what's gonna happen tomorrow. Live one last day before things fall apart all over me again and I lose another person I care about."

"Oh, kid." Turning his full attention to her, the detective let out a small sigh. "Nothing is going to fall apart. Doctor Amari knows what she's doing, it will be all right."

"Nicky, how can I let her plug a serial killer's mind into you? And for what? To find my son who doesn't need me? To find a way in so I can storm the Institute single-handedly? Because I sure as fuck don't want the Brotherhood to level it and slaughter everyone, including my kid. Or should I just knock on the door and kindly ask them to shoot me on sight so it all ends at last?" Her movements jerky, Nora finished her drink and placed the glass on the nearby table, adding it at the end of a meticulously even line of several glasses she had emptied before. "It's not worth the risk."

"I'm just an old synth way past my warranty," Valentine offered in the most soothing tone his voice could muster. "In the highly unlikely case something does go wrong, I'd say trading my existence for the possibility of getting rid of the Institute is a fair deal."

"Fuck fair deals, Nick!" She slammed a fist against her thigh. "You're my friend, you're a brilliant, witty, and genuinely kind man. This irradiated shithole of a world isn't worthy of such sacrifice."

The detective shook his head with a fond smile. "I do appreciate the sentiment, doll, but I'll stick to my views, if that's all right. Speaking of friends, though... what about him?" He nodded towards the far end of the bar where a single figure was huddled over the counter, nursing a bottle.

Nora squinted to see the details in the faint light obscured by cigarette smoke... and she gasped. There he was, all alone, with no one daring - or wanting - to sit on any of the empty stools next to him. The ugly BOS uniform tightly hugged his generously muscled body, the unmistakable mop of dark hair was all messed up as he kept carding his fingers through it, and then there was that nose she would recognize everywhere...

"Shit. How come I haven't noticed him?"

"Probably because he's a bit smaller - just a little, mind you - and considerably less shiny out of that power armor thing," Nick joked, but his voice remained serious. "Although I must admit I am somewhat surprised that the two of you didn't come here together. You seemed inseparable, even after shit hit the proverbial fan."

"Well, we've been avoiding talking to each other since then. Before we got here to meet Amari, he did stay at Home Plate - probably to keep an eye on me, as he had said - but he wouldn't speak, just standing around in his armor like a fucking statue silently judging me."

Unsure of whether it was concern or anger that had choked her, Nora paused, turning her head just in time to see Danse take a long swig from the bottle. His broad shoulders sagged a little more with every swallow, as if the alcohol was weighing him down instead of being liberating, like it usually worked on her. Looking back to the line of empty glasses on the table, she winced. Concern it was, then.

"After you took us to the Memory Den, after I told Amari that I needed time to... shit, that I couldn't put your life at risk just like that, Danse was frustrated with the delay. And with me worrying about your safety so much. And he just fucking disappeared. I honestly thought he had fucked off to the Prydwen without so much as a _kiss my armored ass, Davenport_. Another reason I ended down here, I guess..." Groaning, Nora kept her twitchy fingers busy, twisting and tugging at the hem of the tattered shirt she wore. "I probably should go to him, try to reason, but... he'd just growl at me. He thinks I betrayed him, failed him, abused his trust... and I sure as fuck ain't gonna apologize for being friends with you. I'm not the one who did wrong here. It's them, the fucking knights of the round table, bastards."

Magnolia smoothly eased her audience into another song - a slow, tearful ballad this time, one that was going to do absolutely nothing to improve Nora's mood. Valentine sat back on the couch, and motioned for her to do the same, letting her lean against his shoulder for comfort, as he knew she liked. "Afraid you've lost me there, doll. You're one of them, aren't you?"

Nora nodded, wishing she had asked Charlie for a full bottle, like the paladin did. Actually, make that two bottles of the strongest shit there was under the counter. No, no glasses necessary, only prissy ladies bothered with shots, and she sure as fuck wasn't one anymore. Thank the god.

_Focus, damnit._

"Yeah, I guess I am. Not that I have any fucking choice anymore, though, and to put it bluntly, I really fucking despise the Brotherhood for what they've done to Danse. They may have given him a home when he was just a nobody scraping by, sure, but they've taken his free will in exchange... exactly like you told him. You know what's the worst, though? I can see that he doesn't agree with everything they do, even if it's just minor issues. I can see that sometimes he would prefer to do things differently. I can fucking see it like I can see that he's hurting right now. I'm a fucking lawyer, I can read people. And it's in his eyes, clear as day, when he berates me for going against some of the more idiotic regulations, when he pretends he doesn't see me slipping a few caps into a homeless man's hand, when he complains about fucking technology to find as I drag him to the other end of the fucking city because there's a rumor of a kidnapping there..."

By the time she needed to catch a breath, Nora was so angry, she could feel tears well in her eyes. Reaching out for Valentine's hand, she held onto the cold, metal fingers when he wrapped them around her palm in a reassuring gesture.

"I can see that there are times when he'd rather say he approves, admit that I had done the right thing... I see all that and there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing, Nicky. Because for him, the Brotherhood is sacred, and Maxson... well, Maxson is king fucking Arthur on his slave ship. If I could, I would set that fancy balloon on fire and roast some marshmallows over its carcass. Nice, round marshmallows, caramelized on the outside, soft and gooey on the inside... and I would bite into them and chew happily with a big fucking grin on my face while all that fucking gas bur--"

"Whoa there, stay with me, partner." Nick almost let out a chuckle at that unexpected turn in her inebriated tirade. Almost. "I'm quite sure I got what you were trying to say, so there's no need to... elaborate."

"Yeah. Fuck marshmallows anyway, because I just wanted to tell you that Danse _is_ a good guy. He really is, somewhere under all those fucking layers of BOS armor." Nora finally gave up the struggle with herself, and sobbed openly, burying her face on the synth's shoulder. "He's acting like an asshole, yes. And he can be a cold bastard, too, even Halen admits that, but he's a good guy. I know it. I've seen it, I--"

Valentine gave her a soft pat on the back with his good hand. "Being loyal to the flaw is actually a thing, so I do believe you, doll. Now, let's get you outside for some fresh air, all right?"

Nodding, she made an attempt to stand, but the world spun, her wobbly legs refused to cooperate, and she collapsed in a graceless heap back onto the couch. While some of the patrons got a good laugh out of her drunken clumsiness, her eyes immediately snapped back to the opposite end of the bar... only to find that Danse had passed out, with his forehead against the counter, and the empty bottle precariously close to slipping from his thick fingers. "Just fucking look at him. He and I make such a perfect damn team. Like two disasters just waiting to collide."

"Philosophical all of a sudden, aren't we?" The detective helped Nora up, and offered his arm for support when she made another failed attempt at heading for the stairs. "Careful now, doll, baby steps. I'll escort you to the hotel... then I'll come back for him. He stays here like that, he may wake up in a back alley, buck naked, and with his guts spilling out."

"You're the best, Nicky."

"Nah. I'm just old and wise enough to not hold a grudge."

"Yep. The fucking best."

 

* * *

 


	13. Memories

* * *

**[13:15, APR 22nd, 2278]**

 

Raised voices. Nick. Danse. Arguing. Amari trying to placate them...

_Stop. Please. Stop!_

Nora curled around herself and covered her ears with trembling hands. With eyes tightly shut, she wished the transparent dome of the memory chair had remained closed, shielding her from this onslaught of noise and anger. She needed time to compartmentalize, to gather all the pieces of herself she had lost wading neck-deep through the bog of Kellogg's memories.

She did not expect to see Shaun there. A ten years old boy, calm and polite, a spitting image of herself. Sharing a home with the man who had killed his father. Feeling safe and relaxed around him... Nora drew a quick, ragged breath and held it until the world spun. She would not cry. Not yet.

That final scene was not the worst part of the whole experience, though. Neither was re-living through the vault, seeing her own stunned face, staring in utter, helpless wonder as a bullet ripped through Nate's heart... a bullet she herself had fired in that particular version of the memory. Amari apologized profusely for forcing her through that trauma again, but... Nora did not care, it was the pain she already knew, dealt with... moved on.

The absolute worst was her attitude towards Kellogg after all this. She had lived through some of the most traumatic moments of that man's life. Watched them unfold while being him, feeling with visceral accuracy what he had felt through the whole unspoken tragedy of his past.

Kellogg had no childhood. Knew no love every kid should feel. When he found something dangerously close to it, with a woman and an infant baby of his own, it was all taken from him. Ripped away with spite and vengeance worthy of the cruel, post-war world. He retaliated in the only way he knew, the only way his very own mother had taught him - by picking up the heaviest gun he owned and slaughtering the guilty ones. Every single one of them.

Being inside his mind, Nora knew he had no plans to survive the ordeal, and yet... he had emerged from that dark tunnel, leaving what was left of his humanity behind. He turned himself into an apex predator, so he couldn't be hurt ever again. From that moment until his very end, he was the one dealing pain, never again the one accepting it.

It hurt Nora as all hell to be able to understand that, to actually feel sorry for him. After those few hours spent inside his mind, she could excuse Kellogg's behavior with frightening ease. From that newly gained perspective, shattering his head into bits with more bullets than a human skull could possibly take, was an act of mercy. Like executing a mortally wounded beast to spare it any more suffering.

Worst of all, she had also found forgiveness in herself. Absolution for a monster. It made her feel sick. Emotionally raped. Bruised and battered, inside and out. And so hopelessly lost. She wanted to feel hate, fuel herself with the honest anger of a victim... but all she got was a strange form of guilty stillness, like calm before a storm. Nora could never do well with calm.

It took a few attempts, but eventually she managed to climb out of the chair.

"Shut up. All of you."

The silence that followed her words was almost deafening. As expected, Amari was first to recover and rush to her side with concerned inquiries about her condition.

"I'm... fine, doc, I just need some... fresh air. And a long, stiff drink." With a pat on the other woman's arm, Nora approached Danse and looked up to meet his eyes. "Care to explain what all the yelling was about? Or are you still pretending I do not exist?"

"I wasn't--" He stopped himself abruptly to glare at her. Well, of course he did, but it was not the angry look, she had expected. If anything, the paladin's dark brown eyes seemed sad and weary... and still more than a little bloodshot form last night's heavy drinking.

Nora stared back, trying to not show just much losing his friendship was hurting her. "Well?"

Danse sighed. "Finding that escaped Institute scientist is our next objective. That makes the Glowing Sea our destination. Your synth _friend_ insists on going with you, to which I strongly object."

"Obviously." She snarled at him. "God forbid the extremely dangerous synth and I go anywhere unsupervised. We might return leading the Institute and end up destroying the Brotherhood, am I right?"

Heavens bless him, he actually did consider that possibility for a minute.

"Danse, for fuck's sake, can you stop being such a narrow minded dummy? I may not love the Brotherhood, but I know you do, and I would never do anything to hurt you! I thought I made it damn clear last time we talked about it. Do I really need to remind you about that every fucking day? Do I really need to prove myself to you all the time? Do I really ask for too damn much when I want you to just fucking trust me?"

He opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head instead, refusing to look at her anymore.

"Well, partner, let me take this opportunity to point out that the Sea's radiation won't affect me in any way," Nick offered, adjusting his hat and caressing the brim with a metal finger. "Not having to haul doubled amounts of Rad-X and Rad Away makes traveling there less of a logistic nightmare, I'd say. I won't even mention water and food supplies."

"She is my knight and remains under my protection, synth!" Danse bellowed, not allowing Nora to reply. "I am the only one here qualified to face radscorpions and dethclaws that inhabit that area. Going to the Glowing Sea with you and your meager .45 gives her exactly zero chance for survival."

Valentine flashed him a beatific smile. "You wound my feelings."

"I don't give a damn about your feelings, synth. Her safety is all I care about." With that, the paladin stomped off, his armored feet clanging up the steps leading outside.

"Doll, if that ain't love, I don't know what is," Nick winked at a somewhat stunned Nora by his side. "Seriously, though, he may be right about one thing - that power armor of his will be a great advantage out there. Especially if he can get you a suit of your own for the trip."

Amari approached them with a glass of purified water and two yellowish pills on a small tray. "This will help with the headache that has no doubt built up by now. And if I may add to Mr. Valentine's suggestion, a properly modified power armor suit can provide full protection from radiation."

"Yeah, I think Danse mentioned that too at some point." Swallowing the pills, Nora thanked the doctor with a nod. "I do have a suit of my own, got issued one when I was promoted to a knight... yeah, sorry I didn't tell you about my rank, Nicky, it just... didn't seem like the thing to brag about to you. Anyway, thank you for offering to go there with me. I... really do appreciate that."

The detective allowed her to pull him into a tight embrace. "Don't mention it, kid. Just be safe out there and come back in one piece. Ellie and I will be waiting for good news."

 

* * *

 


	14. Glow

* * *

**[08:00, APR 22nd, 2278]**

 

The transition was anything but smooth. Patches of brownish grass and bushes, fallen trees, an occasional rectangle of stone foundations of a long gone home... it all ended abruptly, taken over by nearly monochrome, overpowering waste of the Glowing Sea. Under surprisingly good weather and the sun blazing down at noon, the barren lands did not look overly intimidating, however. Well, except for the pointer of Nora's Geiger counter that stuck to the right side of the display and refused to move from there.

Swallowing hard, she turned to the side, cursing the power armor that forced her to move her entire body to achieve that simple goal. A few steps away, Danse was busy checking weapons, from his beloved laser rifle, to a powerful minigun he had been hauling at his back, together with a power armor-sized backpack filled with ammunition.

_Her safety is all I care about._

Nora smiled to herself, glad that the helmet covered her expression. Perhaps there was still a chance to salvage this friendship. Perhaps all he needed was some time. Perhaps they would survive this fucking trip, perhaps Maxson would give her a break after that, perhaps...

With a small sigh, she looked once more at the toxic landscape in front of her. The urge to simply run away kept nagging somewhere at the back of her mind, blunted earlier by a generous glass of vodka, but relentless all the same. Radiation had always been a frightening phenomenon for her, and that fear got tripled by the faint, greenish glow that surrounded everything she could see. Scorched soil, melted steel and glass, and god only knew how many corpses turned into dust she would be walking on. Rads were everywhere, silently feasting on cells and atoms, twisting them, turning... and disintegrating all that refused to be turned.

"Your heart rate is too fast," Danse's voice came to her through the helmet's speaker. "Are you unwell?"

Nora glared, fully aware he would not be able to see that. "You telling me you can somehow monitor me on your HUD?"

"It's a standard procedure for high risk missions," he replied shouldering the backpack and adjusting the straps. "The leader needs to be aware of his team's condition. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to make strategically sound decisions in case of emergency."

"A fucking breach of privacy, is what it is."

"Why? You have something to hide?"

 _Motherfucker_. "Yes, I have a meeting a with a whole fucking army of Institute synths right smack in the middle of that fucking radiation fest. We're going to have tea and fucking biscuits, all right? Then we'll take over the world. You sure caught me guilty there. Wanna shoot me now, or after the party?"

He did not deign her outburst with a reply. Instead, he turned to south-west and gestured for her to move. "You take point, I'll follow. Keep your weapon ready and watch your step."

"Sir, yes, fucking sir."

Four hours later, the last shade of blue disappeared from the sky behind them, taken over by the sickly, yellow-tinged air above the irradiated ground. Apart from an occasional extra-large bloodwing or bloatfly, they haven't encountered any dangerous wildlife, but Nora felt exhausted anyway. Despite the fact that, at Danse's explicit orders, she had been doing her best to wear power armor as often as possible during their assignments, she still wasn't used to its quirks and the specific way of movement it required from her body. Sore muscles, aching joints, and fatigue were the direct results of that inexperience.

Stopping for a moment of rest atop a small hill of debris, she turned around in the direction from which they had come from. Even from such a distance, even through dust, an occasional cloud of eerie, glowing fog, and swirling charred flakes of burned timber, the Prydwen was still visible above the horizon. Small and faint, but unmistakably there. Self-righteous and inescapable. A statement and a warning. A declaration of war, shaped like a bomb.

"Radar shows a large structure ahead of us," Danse interrupted her hateful thoughts, not a trace of exhaustion in his voice. "It is impossible to say whether it remains intact, but it could be a potential hideout for that escaped scientist."

Groaning, Nora followed, glad that he took the lead. She had to push herself to keep up the pace, but refused to complain or ask for a longer break. Getting out of the armor to stretch her arms and legs was not an option anyway.

The structure turned out to be nothing more than half-buried remnants of a shopping mall with no traces of any kind of life inside. Tireless and persistent, Danse led them to the next promising point towards the west, then to two more further down south, but each proved as empty as the previous ones. On their way to yet another spot, they saw an enormous, glowing deathclaw in the distance, and had to circle back a few miles to avoid it, glad that they were both encased in steel and titanium which had successfully blocked their smell from reaching the predator's nostrils.

The sun had long set when the two had reached the edges of what seemed like a circular mountain range emerging from the otherwise flat ground.

"The impact site," Danse explained, checking and rechecking various parameters on his HUD. "The radiation levels here are off any charts I know, some of it is even seeping through our protection layers. Nothing life-threatening, but we should not linger here."

Nora nodded, eager to move the fuck on, away from the danger. He did not move, however.

"I know the Institute is supposed to be high-tech and all, but... nothing could possibly survive long there, right?" She looked up at the jagged edges above and the flickering pillar of light coming from whatever was behind them. "Right?"

"I do pick several life readings in the very center," the paladin answered, sounding puzzled about that discovery. "Could be radscorpions or deathclaws, but the indicator positioning and movement suggest something more like a... human settlement."

"You're shitting me."

"See for yourself."

Nora's HUD flickered a little, then stabilized as Danse told her how to bring up an additional marker layer onto the map and zoom in. As always, he was not wrong in his assessment. Twelve red dots were gathered around the area, some stationary, some moving along set, and mostly straight, paths. Just like roads.

"Fuck this shit," she grumbled and began climbing the rocky ground.

 

* * *

**[23:17, APR 22nd, 2278]**

 

It was the middle of the night, but the inside of the crater was bright as day. Intensely green glow emanated from pools of sluggish liquid, from the wisps of vapors over them, from the ground itself, illuminating everything around. Nora's heart was pounding wildly in her chest as she carefully scaled down the crater's walls and stepped onto one of the walkways. One small malfunction of the suit, one dent, one scratch on the protective layer of lead and she'd be dead within minutes... and yet, there were people around, dressed only in rags, but alive and undamaged.

"Church of Atom. I should have known." Letting the weight of his armor drag him down the steep slope in a somewhat graceful slide, Danse stood next to her, looking around, his laser rifle at the ready.

Nora kept listening to the warning beeps of her Geiger's counter, and struggled to persuade herself that no, it was not safe there to step out of the armor, despite what her eyes could see. "How the fuck do they survive?" 

"No one really knows. And they are unwilling to share the secret." The paladin sounded personally offended by the fact. "I'm actually surprised they haven't attacked us yet. None of the other groups I've encountered were friendly."

"I wouldn't call this bunch friendly, exactly. They're glaring so fucking much they could put even you to shame. Let's talk to that lady up there, she's the only one not giving us the stink eye."

Together they followed a path of walkways leading towards the elevated shack, but before they could get inside, a calm but authoritative voice ordered them to stop.

"You approach Atom's holy ground. Why? State your purpose, or be divided in his sight."

"We come in peace." Nora gestured for Danse to stay behind and braved a few more steps forward. "We mean you no harm... although if all the radiation doesn't kill you, I don't really see how the two of us possibly could."

"We are all blessed here, those who worship Atom." The woman smiled, her expression that of an adult amused by a child's antics. "I am Mother Isolde. What do you need of me?"

Nora offered a bow, as deep and polite as the power armor had allowed her to, which certainly wasn't much. "Well, we're looking for someone who can help us. A man named Virgil. We were told he is hiding in this area, but haven't managed to locate him sp far, and--"

Isolde tilted her head, green eyes wary. "We know of Virgil. He comes to trade with us occasionally, but..."

"Yes?"

"He's no man. And he will not look kindly upon visitors."

Danse stepped forward. "Is he a ghoul, then? Wouldn't surprise me if he had turned after being exposed to the extremely high levels of radiation here."

"No, child. Atom has no blessings for the likes of him... The one you seek is a super mutant."

 

* * *

 


	15. Meltdown

* * *

**[03:11, APR 23d, 2278]**

 

"We should move on." Danse paced back and forth along the tunnel leading out of Virgil's cave. With the laser rifle at the ready and an angry stomp in his step, he kept walking between the two turrets that for some reason had considered them friendly even before they spoke to the scientist.

"Relax. He's not gonna run after you to bite your head off, even though you were pretty fucking rude to him." Nora leaned against the wall to let her joints and muscles rest while she tried to calm the paladin down for a hundredth time that day... night... whatever it was outside. "You heard him talking, he's still himself under all that muscle, with his knowledge, manners, personality, all intact."

"Relax? How can I-- No. He fell victim to his own sick experiments, he and his fellow so called scientists released the virus into the populace here, I do not even dare to think how many innocent civilians have been turned into monsters as a direct result of their actions. And you-- you have agreed to help him!" He pointed towards Virgil's hideout, his voice so angry, that even through the helmet's speakers Nora could hear the underlying growl in it. "That thing in there is a disgusting, depraved abomination and it should be eliminated the moment we have no more need of it! It shouldn't be allowed to live, it shouldn't be allowed to recover, not scum like that, not when good men--"

He did not finish, marching off towards the mouth of the cave instead, to stand there with his back turned to her, perfectly still. Not without some trouble, Nora managed to stifle a sigh and took a few careful steps in the paladin's direction. Just as she had expected, he stopped her with a quick gesture before she could get close.

"Danse, don't be an idiot. I had to agree to his terms, he wouldn't help us otherwise. And... shit, just think about it for a moment instead of yelling at me for no reason - if we get that serum, if it actually fucking works on him, Virgil can create more of it, use it to cure those who can be cured. It won't bring Cutler back, but... it's the next best thing, can't you see this?"

"You always find excuses to let abominations live," he replied long after she had decided he would give her a silent treatment instead. "You're awfully good at that."

"Fuck you, Danse! You're being a dick, and you fucking know it!" Pushing past him, Nora stepped outside, straight into a raging radstorm.

 

* * *

**[06:46, APR 23d, 2278]**

 

The moment her anger with Danse had dissipated, Nora realized that she was stomping her way across the vast plains of the Glowing Sea, with no shelter in sight, while bolts of irradiated lightning kept striking all around her. With eyes open wide, she stared at the clouds of glowing dust swirling in the wind, not quite realizing that she had stopped moving. Never in her life had she felt so small and vulnerable. Despite all the protective layers, she was a speck of nothing facing the fierce power of mutated mother nature… and some of her own oldest, most primal fears.

Another flash of green light, another deafening crack, right behind her, and the HUD inside her helmet went crazy, displaying a series of alerts, urging her to move on at last.

Nora ran. With her throat constricted painfully, with her fists clenched, and tears rolling down her cheeks, she did not realize that the one word she kept whispering was the name of the man she had been so furious at mere moments ago.

“Stop! Knight Davenport, stop immediately! That's an order!”

It took a long while for his voice to register, to break through her frantic, ragged breathing and pathetic whimpers, but it halted her on the spot. She collapsed to all fours, eliciting a tired groan from the armor’s frame. Fortunately, actuators and gyroscopes had kept her steady, preventing her from falling face down onto the ground.

A few frustrating moments later, Danse appeared in her line of view, dropping to one knee, an armored hand reached out in a soothing gesture. As if she was some kind of wild animal for him to tame.

“You should never run in a storm,” he chided, but there was no rebuke in the way he spoke the words.

Nora exhaled a broken sob. As always, his voice was like a guiding beacon, leading her from panic to reality. As always, she latched onto it, needing more. “W—what is it that… I should do… then?”

“If there is no shelter nearby, you should get as low as you possibly can... and stay low,” the paladin explained patiently. Knowing that having someone speak to her helped Nora refocus, he elaborated further. “You should also make sure to find a place away from any high objects that could attract lightning.”

“Any—anything else… sir?”

“You should be patient and wait until the storm passes the area. The safest way is to wait 30 minutes after the last lightning strike before you move out.”

“Is this… a safe area?”

He made a show of looking around. “More or less.” As if to prove him wrong, a lightning bolt slammed against the ground several feet away from them. Danse sighed. "Like I said: more or less.”

“So… can I stay here? Because I don’t think I’ll be able to move any time soon.”

“We can stay here.”

For some foolish reason, the fact that he made sure to put emphasis on the word _we_ chased the last of Nora’s fears away. “Good.”

“Let your body relax, your armor will keep you steady.”

“Yeah, it has been for a while now…”

“Outstanding.” Danse made himself comfortable on the ground by her side, placing the minigun between them and the laser rifle across his lap. “Take a look to the far left. That’s the bell tower of Hopesmarch Pentecostal Church, according to my map. It will draw most of the lightning away from us. And from there, it’s only a two hours walk to the edge of the Sea.”

Instead of a nod he would not be able to see, she let out a non-committal grunt and let the radstorm’s onslaught be the only thing breaking the silence between them. The paladin was more than happy with that arrangement, occasionally checking the readings of her sensors on his HUD, and smiling when her heart rate returned to normal after a while.

“I’m still pissed at you for what you said,” Nora grumbled once the sky had begun to clear.

“Fine by me,” was the only reply she got before he stood and shouldered the minigun. “The storm is gone, we can move on.”

“Fine by me,” Nora mocked and gathered herself from the ground as well.

 

* * *

**[07:50, APR 23d, 2278]**

 

The church was half buried by the wasteland, no way in or out visible other than the large holes in the building's roof. After brief consideration, Danse had decided it was worth checking out for precious metals, which meant sending Nora ahead as the smaller and lighter one of the two of them. He hoped that, once inside, she would be able to find an alternative route for him to enter safely.

"Seems quite steady, all things considered," Nora told him once she had climbed up to the compromised roof. "If we find any gold candle holders, you think I could request some of it to have a new rifle made? I've always wanted a plasma one..."

"Focus, knight. Be extra careful once you get to the edge," the paladin warned. "The combined weight of you and the armor may be too much for the structure to handle."

Instead of the expected snarky remark from her, he heard a barely stifled cry. "What is it? Are you injured? Talk to me!"

"Ghouls... more than a dozen of them... men, women... oh, god... children, too." For a reason unknown to him, Nora was on the verge of tears. "All feral."

"Godless heathens." Danse looked up just in time to see her crouch by one of the roof holes. "Don't you dare go in there alone! Come back for an incendiary grenade, that will solve the problem."

"You fucking heartless bastard!" She was crying openly now, her tear-stained voice breaking over the words. "How are they godless if they came to the church for shelter?" She kept the line open, letting him listen while she loaded a fresh magazine into her sniper rifle. "How are they heathens if they had faith that god would save them from the bombs?"

Moment later, Nora took a shot, killing one and agitating the rest of the dormant ghouls. They began running amok, screeching in frustration, unable to climb up to reach her.

"How can you sentence them to a slow, painful death in flames when they've waited for it for so long?"

Another shot echoed from the walls.

"When they've done nothing to fucking deserve your cruelty?"

She squeezed the trigger again.

"They must have been locked up there since the war, two hundred years with no damn way to get out."

One more shot.

"Just fucking try to imagine that agony, Danse, when radiation made them all into ghouls. When husbands watched their wives change, when children screamed seeing their mothers become monsters."

This time, the sound of the rifle firing was followed by a loud sob.

"And then they waited for another miracle, one that would release them from this place."

A moment of silence, then another bullet ripped through the air.

"How long did they manage to hold onto the shreds of their humanity as hope slowly died out? Years? Decades? Fucking centuries before they gave up and turned feral? One by one, watching friends and lovers succumb, knowing damn good and well that was the fate awaiting all of them..."

Punctuating her words with pulls of the trigger, she emptied the magazine and loaded another one.

"And then you come here, paladin fucking Danse, so righteous and proud, and you dare to judge them, even--"

Three shots in rapid succession.

"Even the little ones, whose only fault was the fact that they were born into the wrong fucking times. Which is no fault at all."

When Nora jumped off the roof, Danse found himself at a loss for words. Her sensors indicated high levels of stress, but this time he had no idea how to help her get through this. Not without saying something compromising, something he would end up regretting afterwards. Glad that she could not check his own parameters, he simply went after her, letting her talk uninterrupted.

"Sixteen ghouls, Danse. Sixteen unfortunate human beings. Sixteen bullets. Because I always find fucking excuses to let abominations live, right?"

The paladin breathed a small sigh of relief. He could respond to _that_ , at least. "That was the first thing you did in full compliance with the Brotherhood's rules, knight. I'm certain Elder Maxson will appreciate that with--"

"Elder fucking Maxson? Really, Danse? Really?" Her heart rate peaked at 120 beats per minute when she turned around and blocked his way. "Do you honestly think I did that for his praise? For approval? That I went up there and fucking murdered three children to see that bearded bastard smile? They were kids, Danse! Mutated and mindless, yes, but kids all the same! The girl still clutched a shredded doll in her tiny hand, for fuck's sake! And I shot her! Right through her little head! Not for you, not for your goddamned elder, but because I couldn't stand the thought of her thrashing against the walls of that church for the next few centuries! I couldn't let any of them suffer any more... they've been through enough... enough... I... oh god, I need... air... I need to... get out of this... fucking cage... I--"

Before he could stop her, Nora opened her power armor and stumbled out. It took just one gulp of the toxic air to make her collapse to the ground with a strangled cry. She crawled on, on all fours, as the urge to flee the place where the panic attack had begun turned out to be stronger than survival instinct.

"No!" Dropping the weapons and the backpack, Danse rushed to her side, trying to grab her, stuff her back into the safety of the suit as soon as possible, before radiation could do any serious damage. "Stop right now and let me help you! Stop!"

She would have none of it, however. Howling and screaming, she struggled to push his armored hands away, her punches so fierce that he could hear the sound of knuckles breaking against the metal. Precious minutes ticked by, until he realized he would not be able to get a hold of her without seriously hurting her. Not while being burdened with all the weight of the metal that surrounded him.

"I am not losing you!"

In the short time he needed to jump out of his suit and swallow a handful of Rad-X pills, Nora had already managed to get quite far away, leaving a faint bloody trail behind, and finally collapsing by the church's wall. When he got to her, falling to his knees next to her curled up body, she was wailing quietly, looking right through him, unseeing.

"You have to get back to your power armor, knight. Immediately. Please... please. Can you hear me?"

No reaction. Danse gathered her in his arms, doing his best to not notice the steady trickle of blood from her nose, or the alarmingly increased body temperature. Half-way through to where they left their suits, Nora thrashed violently, nearly causing him to fall. To avoid the risk of dropping her, the paladin knelt down once again, cradling her tightly against his chest.

"You have to stay calm. I know you are in shock, but you have to let me help you. You have to!"

Her lips began to move again, and it took him a moment to realize that the frantic, rapid whispers was actually his name that she repeated over and over again.

"I'm right here, Nora." Reaching out, he cupped her cheek in his calloused hand. "It's Danse, right by your side."

Paradoxically, it was that gentle touch that had jolted back into consciousness. Her gaze refocused, and she tensed briefly, struggling to understand what had happened. "You're... the armor... you can't, you have to go back! No, no, no, not for me, not because of me, no! No!"

She was on the verge of another panic attack and the paladin could not let that happen if he wanted to save both of them. Covering her injured hand with his, he squeezed lightly on the broken knuckles, just enough to send a sting through her nerves. He had seen her anchor herself with mild pain before, and it seemed to have worked this time as well.

"Danse? Danse, I--"

"Victor," he said simply, allowing himself to enjoy the way her eyes widened in surprise.

"Wha--?"

"Victor," he repeated, a little slower this time, glad that the distraction had worked.

She blinked, then coughed, bringing a small spatter of blood to her chin. "N-- Nora. Nice to... fucking meet... you. Sir."

"Likewise. Now hold on." Standing up, Danse half-ran to the power armor and helped her climb in. Once she was safe inside, he entered his own suit and gathered their belongings from the ground.

"Fuck. I'm dizzy. And sick," Nora whispered, pausing to swallow the bile that had risen in her throat. "I may need to puke..."

The paladin checked her vitals, wishing the sensors could offer a more thorough assessment of her condition. On second thought, though, he had to admit that it was for the best that they hadn't, because what little he could see, frightened him just as well. "If you have to, do it inside. Frame and uniform can be cleaned and you can't risk a second more of exposure. Understood?"

"Yuck. I mean... y--yes, sir."

"Good. We are two hours away from safety. Just let the armor do the hard work and follow me. As soon as we get out, I will set you up with a RadAway drip and will signal for a vertibird. You'll feel better by the time it arrives." Approaching her, Danse placed both his metal hands on Nora's armored shoulders. "You just have to hold on a little longer, all right? I know you can do it, knight. I know it. Ready?"

"Not really, but... you say I can, then I fucking can." With her undamaged hand, she reached out to knock at the plating on his chest. "Are you okay? You caught lots of rads, too... because of me, I--"

"Hush. I am all right, I think I swallowed half of our Rad-X supply, so I could pass for an Atom worshiper right now. For as long as the pills last, that is." His clumsy attempt at a joke was rewarded with a small chuckle from Nora.

"Danse... I mean... Victor... I am so fucking sorry for wh--"

"Don't." He did not let her continue. "You are not the one that should be sorry... and you don't have to use my first name. Danse is more than fine."

"All right. It will be our little secret, then." For a moment, they simply looked at one another through their visors, comfortable without any more words spoken.

When Nora swayed, and her armor's frame stabilized her with a quiet hiss, it was long past the time to move on. Danse took the lead, his attention divided between the road ahead and the alarming readings from Nora's sensors...

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal headcanon is that Danse was rescued by Railroad: they were the ones to give him the new identity and background. Glory was the one to give him his first name, Victor... because the fact that they both had successfully fled the institute was a glorious victory for them.


	16. Bonds

* * *

**[16:18, APR 25th, 2278]**

 

"Good afternoon, Knight Davenport, it's time to wake up at last."

Cade's voice sounded like fingernails dragged against a blackboard. Wincing, Nora struggled to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt way too heavy to achieve that simple goal. She grunted a wordless complaint and turned to her side on the creaky bed.

"The fuck happened?"

"Grumpy, aren't we?" The Knight-captain cleared his throat to cover a chuckle that threatened to escape him. "There is no reason to worry, the temporary memory loss you are experiencing is a perfectly normal reaction in your circumstances." Judging by the sounds, he stepped away from the gurney to get to the terminal by his desk. Several keyboard clicks later, he continued, reading from the screen. "You and Paladin Danse were on a mission to the Glowing Sea. According to his report, there was a malfunction in your power armor that had caused prolonged radiation exposure. It seems there was a hidden, rare fault with the tech, not something that could have been detected before it was too late."

"Well, shit." In a flash, memories returned and Nora's eyes flew open. Unblinking, she stared right into the glowing bulb above her head, the electric light bright enough to cause her pain. Danse lied in his report. While they were waiting for the vertibird, he must have faked that tech flaw himself after she went unconscious. To protect her. To spare her the humiliation of an investigation and subsequent assessment of her mental health. He lied for her.

Cade's concerned face blocked Nora's vision. "Can you give me a quick assessment of your condition?"

Forcing a neutral expression on, she focused on the inner workings of her battered body. "I feel like a corpse chewed on, digested, and shat out by a mangy deathclaw."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Less flourish, more facts, Knight."

"Cold. Nauseous as fuck, but also hungry. Muscles feel weird. Tired, and sore. Not sure it makes any sense, but it takes a huge mental effort to make them obey and move. Skin is very sensitive, too. The sheets feel like sandpaper against it."

"Sadly, all within the expected norm, considering the amount of RadAway I had to pump into you to flush the radiation." He checked her pulse. "Finally below 100. Very good. Let's try getting you out of that bed. Before you ask: yes, I will release you if you can hold yourself up well enough. I'd rather not have you around a moment longer than absolutely necessary. You are an insufferable patient when you are conscious."

Nora shot him a watery grin. "Thanks, sir. You say the nicest things."

With just a little bit of help, she managed to sit up, eager to get on her feet, but the knight-captain shook his head. "Take it easy. Wait a few moments. You were unconscious for two days, you would faint if you got upright too quickly."

"Two damn days? Shit." Nora ran a slightly trembling hand through her hair and let out a strangled cry when several thick strands remained tangled among her fingers.

"That's a side effect of both the exposure and RadAway treatment, I'm afraid," Cade explained. "You come from the world without radiation, Knight. While your body has adjusted somewhat and can tolerate what is the norm now, anything above a certain level causes a reaction more severe than I'd see in someone born after the war."

She nodded, casting a quick glance at her pillow and immediately turning away at the sight of the mess of matted locks there. "Fuck it, it's just hair. It will grow back, right?"

"Absolutely. Now stand up. I will support you, if needed."

Not without some effort, Nora pushed herself off the thin mattress. Just as she was about to congratulate herself, the world spun, making her instinctively reach out. Cade grabbed her elbow and held it firmly.

"Not bad, but I'm sure you can do better," he teased. "Try taking a step forward once the vertigo stops."

With a nod, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. The first step was a nightmare of protesting muscles, aching joints, and her vision swimming, but the second one proved much less aggravating. By the time she reached the doctor's desk, Nora was able to keep herself standing without his help.

"Fuck, it was harder than I had expected," she admitted, leaning against the nearest wall and wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of a hand. "But I guess I did earn myself some freedom?"

"That you did, Knight. You're nowhere near being fit for active duty, of course, but you can roam around the Prydwen freely for as long as you make sure you rest a lot and eat properly, as well. I'll provide the necessary dietary information for the cantina, so they can supply you with what's needed."

"Thank you, doc. I promise I'll be good."

Two hours later, Nora was knocking on Danse's door, with a bottle of smuggled whisky under her jacket and a fond smile on her face. He did not answer, however.

"Paladin Danse is on a mission, Knight," a scribe on the deck's maintenance duty had informed her. "Probably some reckon assignment. I saw him leave by a vertibird yesterday morning, he was alone and had enough supplies to last him a couple of days."

Covering a pout with a grateful smile, Nora offered the other woman a nod and headed for the mess hall. She needed to keep herself distracted, and her growling stomach required some attention, too. Fortunately, the moment she dropped onto the stool by the counter, a young initiate behind the bar placed a steaming bowl in front of her.

"Knight-captain Cade's orders," he explained with a charming smile. "And I'm duty bound to make sure you eat everything, ma'am."

Nora gave him a once-over to check the name tag on his uniform. "Feast your eyes then, Harper, because I'm starving, and I am going to wolf it all down with no fucking regard for table manners."

"If I may be so bold, Knight, you're a woman after my own heart," he confessed, leaning forward to fix his intensely blue eyes on her. "I may also have a few untouched bottles of genuine Gwinnett stout hidden in a safe place, if you're interested. I know you enjoy fine liquors."

She waggled her eyebrows at him. "Let me guess, that safe place is dangerously close to the love shack, hmm? You know, that pair of mattresses cleverly concealed behind stacks of boxes on the forecastle, away from passers-by and prying eyes, just the perfect spot for a quick drink and an even quicker tryst right under- or rather above - Maxson's nose..."

He knew, of course. Everyone knew, except for maybe the Elder himself. The young man's cheeks turned pink, and all the reply he could muster was a quick nod. Nora stifled a laugh, reaching out to pat his shoulder. "I'm mighty flattered, initiate, but I'm afraid I have to decline."

"Of course, ma'am." He did not seem particularly crushed, but disappointed? Very much so. "I wouldn't dare to get between you and the Paladin. Of course. Forgive me."

She tilted her head at that, amusement fading away in an instant. "Oh, is that the rumor going rounds now? Well, damn. Not that you're going to believe me, but Danse and I are very good friends and that's worth much more than any fleeting romance. Each of us would give their life for the other, but no, we're not actually screwing."

Harper must have been more eager than he had showed, because he believed her on the spot, no further questions asked. His lips stretched in a sly smile as he reached for her hand, and - ignoring the fact that she still held a dirty spoon in it - he placed a noisy kiss on her knuckles. "In that case, I'll keep trying, if you don't mind."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, wh--" She stopped herself with a hiss. "Damn bad choice of words there. Fine, I don't mind, but only if you don't mind being repeatedly rejected. You're what, seventeen? I'm way too old for you, kiddo."

"Nineteen, actually, and there's no such thing as too old whisky. You are like the finest whisky, Knight Davenport."

Nora gaped. "Where the fuck did you get those pick-up lines, anyway? You sound like a damn womanizer from the middle-ages!"

"The Prydwen does have a rather extensive holotape library," he told her with a saucy wink. "All initiates are encouraged to use it in their spare time, and I just love reading the old classics."

"You're a menace, Harper. A blushing, messy, and adorable menace, but don't get your hopes up. Don't get your anything up on my account, come to think of it." Finally pulling her hand out of his grip, she stirred the cold leftovers of the stew in her bowl. "I have a mission here, a long and fucking dangerous one that includes killing a goddamn courser for just starters, so the last thing I'm interested in is a steamy affair. Just being honest with you, kid, no offense meant, all right?"

He shrugged. "I am not offended. And I don't think you need to worry about that courser, ma'am. Paladin Danse will kill it without a problem. He is one of our finest, after all. Every initiate dreams to be like him while we scrub the deck or do the dishes."

The spoon slipped from Nora's fingers and clattered to the metal floor. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"I'm sorry! I did not mean to imply I am unwilling to perform the simpler tasks, or being ungrateful for the place in the Brotherhood, please, I--"

She silenced him with a hiss. "Shut up, I did not mean that. About Danse. Killing the courser. What's with that?"

"I... thought you knew?"

Nora growled. "Obviously I do not. Tell me everything, Harper, right fucking now!"

"Oh, I... well, I might have overheard the Elder giving the Paladin an assignment to kill the courser. It was the day before yesterday and I swear I didn't mean to listen in, but I was cleaning the windows there and--"

"I don't care that you were eavesdropping! I just want to know when was this assignment supposed to start?"

"As far as I know the Paladin left yesterday before dawn... there's that scribe that has a crush on him, you see, and she was gushing all morning about how handsome he looked even when he was tired, and--"

Nora had heard enough. "I'm going to kill that motherfucker, I am going to tear him to fucking pieces!" Several pairs of curious eyes watched as she stormed out of the mess hall and, using the walls as support, staggered straight for Maxson's briefing room on the lower deck.

Once there, she rushed in, adrenaline pushing both weakness and soreness after descending the stairs aside. When she stopped in the center of the room, with an accusatory finger pointed right at his broad chest, the Elder tilted his head, one eyebrow raised at her angered huffing.

"It looks like you have recovered, Knight Davenport."

The cool tone of his voice infuriated Nora even more, but she managed to match it when she spoke, just a little short of breath. "Why did you send him away for certain death? All alone against a fucking courser! Was it to punish me? To scare me? Show me that I'm next?"

"A single paladin wearing a full suit of power armor and wielding a minigun is able to level a small town." Letting his lips stretch in a cheerless smile, Maxson stepped into Nora's personal space, forcing her to drop the outstretched hand. "One as skilled as Danse, with the best armor modifications and the deadliest weaponry at his disposal, can deal with a single synth, courser or not. Obviously, I have full confidence in his success, otherwise I would not send him alone."

Nora looked up and held his stare. "No, of course you wouldn't," she drawled. "You would have nothing to blackmail me with if he was slain."

Maxson laughed out loud at that statement. "Don't be so certain, Knight. I'm keeping an eye on all of my subordinates and, despite your avoiding the social life here, I am well aware of your bonds with others. Even if some of them have formed as recently as today." A smirk twisted his features when she shot him a surprised glare. "Yes, there's that young initiate that always moans your name while masturbating in the showers, loud enough for the entire deck to hear... what's his name? Harper, yes? Oh, and let's not forget Haylen. Sweet, naive scribe Haylen who is more devoted to Danse than she is to the Brotherhood. Some of her personal holotape recordings are quite damning. She may need to be... corrected at some point. It's all up to you, Knight."

With a hysterical scream, Nora lunged at the man. She clutched the sheepskin lapels of his coat, but whatever she had intended to do, the guards did not give her the chance to succeed. Within moments they were at her sides, two pairs of armored hands dragging her away from the amused Elder, and slamming her weakened body against the ground.

"Congratulations, Davenport, you have just earned yourself an execution." Maxson's eyes were narrowed to slits, even though a forced smile kept tugging at the corners of his lips. His moves deliberately slow, he turned away to look through the windows at the world at his feet, leaving Nora's pained wheezing to be the only sound breaking the silence.

After just enough time to make her panic in the merciless grip of two power armors holding her face-down on the floor, the Elder gestured for the guards to pick her up. "Fortunately for you, you can still be useful to the Brotherhood," he hissed through gritted teeth and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand. "Have someone escort her to Cambridge and lock her up there. Only the best of us deserve to be stationed aboard the Prydwen and she has lost that privilege. I order Knight Rhys to keep guard at her cell's door at all times. Make sure he realizes he is personally responsible for the prisoner. I'll decide what to do with her later."

 

* * *

 


	17. Disappointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's block is a thing of nightmares. I wish I could promise writing the next chapter won't take me two months, but... yeah.   
> I *will* do my best, though.  
> Shout out to Gladius, whose comments brought me out of stupor and back into creativity. Thanks again!

* * *

  **[11:03, APR 26th, 2278]**

 

"Come on, Rhys, don't be a jerk! You've read the reports, you know she still needs medical care! Urgently, at the moment!"

_Haylen?_   Nora didn't even try to sit up or open her eyes. Just being conscious again was almost too much to bear, adding the sight of Rhys' face to it was out of the question.

"The Elder gave me explicit orders..."

"I know, you've said that seven times already, but just take one good look at her! She's passed out, not stubbornly pretending to sleep to piss you off. Look at her blue fingernails, at the color of her skin. She needs another bag of RadAway and some fresh blood in her. Immediately, before it's too late."

"Fine, but don't try anything, I know you're friends with her."

"Oh, please. I'm a scribe, what could I actually do? Heal you to death to help her escape?"

"Not funny."

Rusted metal hinges whined and the door slammed against the bars as the man's strong arm swung it open with too much force.

"Knight Davenport, can you hear me?" A cool hand touched her forehead, while another reached for her neck to check the pulse. "Your heart is racing. I'll set you up with a drip, you'll feel better in a bit."

A sting of a needle and, several minutes later, Nora finally managed to look around.

"Hey, doc..."

Haylen perched on the edge of the cot. "Welcome back." Holding a mug of water to Nora's lips, she looked the patient over and flashed her trademark cheeky smile. "Once you are properly hydrated, we're going to have to do something with your hair, knight. You look absolutely terrible."

"Like I'm ghouling out and trying to hide it, hmm?"

"Yeah, only that the bald spots are a _dead_ giveaway." The scribe winked. "So... what should I ask the grump out there to fetch? A razor or some scissors?"

Nora managed a weak chuckle at that. "You know me, I always go for the shock value."

"Razor it is, then."

When Haylen padded over to the bars, Nora reached out to grab her hand. "Jane... aren't you going to ask me about--"

"No. Whatever it is that you've done up there, I don't believe for one moment that you are a traitor as Rhys claims. That you would purposefully do anything to harm any of your fellow soldiers, or the Brotherhood as a whole. You are not like that. Paladin Danse wouldn't put all his faith in you if you were."

Nora stifled a weak laugh. "He's so gonna chew me out for it when... if he comes back."

"What do you mean 'if'?" Her face twisted with concern, Haylen sat on the cot again.

"That bearded fucker sent him to face a courser. Without any backup."

"Impossible, that's almost a suicide mission, the Elder wouldn't... he values paladin Danse too much!"

"And why do you think I jumped at him in murderous rage? Because he fucking admitted it with a fucking smile on his face. And I don't give a flying fuck that he thinks Danse can do it. It's still too damn risky for just one man."

Covering her mouth with a hand, the scribe leaned against the wall. "I'd like to have full confidence in paladin Danse's combat skills... I mean, I do, but--"

"Same. And Jane... be careful with your journals. Best not keep any... records of your private thoughts. Maxson has spies everywhere."

"What? How do you-- why?"

"Just trust me on that, please? No brotherhood soldier can keep secrets from him. None. And no, that's not me being paranoid. "

They both twitched at the sharp sound of a rifle's stock slamming against the cell's bars.

"Hey, what are you two whispering about?" Rhys' eyes were narrowed to slits while he glared at them. "Speak up so I can hear you!"

Haylen cleared her throat. "I'll... I'll go get that razor now, all right?"

"Please do."

 

* * *

  **[13:27, APR 28th, 2278]**

 

"Unscheduled vertibird incoming! Clear the roof!"

Excited by the change in their daily routine, curious scribes rushed towards the stairs, leaving the police station strangely empty. Nora sighed and wrapped a thin blanket tighter around her shoulders. Unfortunately, it failed to stop her violent shivers, so she pulled the scratchy wool over her clean shaven head as well. That helped, if only just a little. It was her first damn day without RadAway or any other meds, and withdrawal symptoms already sucked. Just her fucking luck.

"You're not going up to see who's coming?" She peeked through the bars at Rhys, who was sitting behind a rickety desk, glaring at her across the room. As per usual.

"Why? Whoever it is, will have to come downstairs, anyway." The knight shrugged. "Besides, I'm not going to leave my post, Elder Ma--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Nora rolled her eyes and sprawled on the creaky cot. "Your precious Elder has given you orders and you are going to stick to them like the good lap dog that you are. I got it after the first ten times you said that."

The man snarled, reaching for a small toolbox on the floor. "I am going to ignore you."

"Thank the god for small mercies," she mocked, watching as he pretended to be busy cleaning his laser rifle.

The sound of powerful rotors had reached maximum and gradually died down. The entire building heaved under the added weight of the vertibird. Soon after, the small crowd rushed back inside, following a solitary figure in a battered power armor suit.

"Paladin Danse, is it true?"

"Have you really fought a courser?"

"Without any backup?"

"Paladin, how did you defeat it?"

"Has it exploded upon death?"

"Cease the chatter!" Danse's voice boomed over the noise, silencing the excited scribes on the spot. "Yes, I have indeed received orders to locate and eliminate an Institute courser. Yes, I have successfully accomplished that mission alone. No, it did not explode and the fight was not particularly difficult. Long and straining, yes, but not difficult. Come to think of it, I found it surprisingly easy to predict its actions, which gave me a significant advantage and, in the end, a victory. Now, I believe each of you has important duties to attend to, so you can stop gawking now. Dismissed!"

Heavy, armored footsteps approached the holding cells and Nora found herself curling into a little ball under the blankets. As relieved as she was to know that Danse was back and unharmed, she was very much not ready for the confrontation with him.

"Knight Rhys? What are you doing here?" The Paladin stepped out of the armor, exchanging a quick handshake with his former subordinate. "I thought you and Haylen got assigned to some more important tasks than holding the front here."

"Haylen is indeed out on a mission, sir." The knight stood at attention, rattling off words as if he was giving an official report. "I've received a personal assignment form Elder Maxson himself to guard a very dangerous criminal here."

"What are the charges? Must have been something very serious if Maxson got involved." His curiosity peaked, Danse padded over to the cell door to take a look at the prisoner, but only the top of a bald head showed from under the blanket. "And who is he? A Gunner? They are usually the most vicious ones."

Rhys cleared his throat. "Actually, shameful as it is to admit, she's one of us, sir. And she's charged with an assault on the Elder himself, went straight for his throat like a rabid bitch. Rumor has it the two guards had trouble holding her down."

His curiosity turning to an ugly suspicion, the paladin closed his fingers around a rusty bar and squeezed until his knuckles went white, making the entire frame of the cell whined quietly under the strain. "Show yourself."

Rhys snorted, standing by Danse's side. "Yeah, let your sponsor be really proud of you now, filth."

Nora hissed at that jab and, discarding the covers, lunged for the bars. "Stop gloating, you hateful motherfucker," she screamed when the knight hastily stepped out of her reach. "You haven't been there, you haven't seen me there, you fucking know shit, you hear me? Shit!"

"Knight Davenport."

Danse didn't even have to yell. His deadpan, disappointed voice felt like a whiplash across her back. "Fuck you, Danse." Nora sank to the cold floor, covering her face and refusing to look at any of the men. "After all we've been through together... shit, Haylen had more trust in me than you."

When the paladin simply walked away without a single word more, she allowed herself to cry.

 

* * *

  **[11:03, MAY 2nd, 2278]**

 

Danse wasn't there when Nora was released and, as per the official order, _given another chance_... which was no doubt Maxson's way to deal with the fact that he had still needed her for something.

It was probably for the best that her sponsor was away when the cell door was opened, as the first thing she did was kick Rhys square in the groin. After that accomplishment, she rushed out of the police station and hid among the buildings outside before the man had enough time to gather himself from the floor. Not one of her proudest moments... very satisfying, though. To her surprise, it seemed that the poor battered knight and his pride didn't make an official complaint, because no one tried to stop her when she stepped off the shuttle vertibird onto the Prydwen's deck a few hours later... although, perhaps, it wasn't surprising at all - a man like Rhys would never admit to being downed so easily by someone as worthless as she was.

Of course, Danse was not there to greet her, either, nor did he open the door when she came to his quarters to explain herself the next morning. He had been inside all that time, of course, and it fucking hurt more than the imprisonment and all of Rhys' insults did. He had no doubt read the official report of the incident by then and - without making an effort to hear her out, to try to see things from her perspective - he had assumed her guilt and passed his judgment. Motherfucker. Disappointed with her or not, he should have given her a fucking chance, she deserved that much from him. After another unanswered knock and a half-hearted insult thrown at the stubbornly closed door, Nora went straight to the cantina... and generous shots of deadly strong moonshine that initiate Harper had conjured from under the counter. Especially for her.

After a few days of mostly drunk, uncomfortable idleness while too damn many of the fellow soldiers refused to talk to her, Maxson called Nora down for a briefing at last. Assisted by a ridiculous entourage of _four_ fully armed guards this time - more for show than out of any necessity, obviously - he announced that in his infinite grace, he was offering her a chance to redeem herself. Like she cared about _his_ approval. Bastard.

"We already have the plans for the teleportation device, crude as they are," he announced as soon as she had arrived. "While you were shaming us all by publicly drinking yourself into a stupor here, we've also completed the task you had failed at, which was eliminating the abomination that drew those plans."

Barely able to stifle an angry growl, Nora took a step closer, her path immediately blocked by one of the guards. "He was human, for fuck's sake! He could have been cured! I had a deal with him, you asshole!"

"Yes, and that's the problem, exactly. Having any kinds of... 'deals' with supermutants is a capital offense, punishable by death," Maxson explained, his delivery slow as if she was a naive child needing a life lesson. "That was your second transgression, let me remind you."

"Then just fucking shoot me already and spare me your fucking lectures, alright? A bullet to the head would be better than your brainwashed droning."

"All in due time. On to the current matters now." Still infuriatingly calm, the Elder handed her a small padded box with a cybernetic piece resting inside. The courser's chip. "Paladin Danse risked his life to obtain this thing. As much as it pains me to admit this, not even proctor Quinlan was able to crack the encryption on the chip, so it has fallen to you to make sure Danse's effort does not go to waste. You have my permission to choose one of the knights to accompany you, and have this thing decoded for us."

"Not a fucking chance. Paladin Danse is my squad leader, I'm not going anywhere without him."

Maxson shook his head, expecting that reaction from her. "Paladin Danse is currently enjoying his well deserved R&R, I will not let you cut this precious time short for him, you'll understand."

"Oh, I understand just fine. You just need to keep him as a bargaining chip so I do whatever you want, you son of a bitch. Congratulations on the successful show, by the way." Nora gestured towards the guards. "I'm sure I could knock them out with my bare hands, power armor and all, and chew right through your throat again if only I wanted to. Really fucking sad how many people actually believed the shit you put in the official records."

"Really fucking sad that Danse did, am I right?" The elder tilted his head to the side, his lips stretched in a condescending smile. "You see, knight Davenport, propaganda often is the key to success. A good leader has to know how to use it as a tool."

"Yeah, and we're all just tools for you, nothing more. Perfect fucking leadership, indeed." With that, she spun on her heel and marched off towards the flight deck. "Keep your fucking knights, I'll go alone."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal headcanon is that Danse is a former Institute courser, hence his ability to easily predict and counter the Courser's tactics in this chapter.


	18. De facto

* * *

  **[21:03, MAY 9th, 2278]**

 

"I'm sorry, I've dragged you into this, Preston." Nora knelt on the ground and swept at the rubble and grime with her gloved hand. In the sickly green light of her pip-boy, a wide line had appeared. A relatively fresh coat of dirty white covered many other layers painted straight on the cobblestones to connect two parts of the broken pre-war trail. "I know you're busy with the Minutemen and all, I just... there was no one else I could trust with this."

He crouched next to her and offered an honest smile. "I appreciate the trust. Besides, the Minutemen don't need that much supervision these days. Things have calmed down a little since the Brotherhood arrived. Regardless of their agenda and methods, they've wiped out most of the raiders and chased even the Gunners into hiding, all that while killing a lot of dangerous wildlife on the way... I'd say it's the calmest time the settlers have had in years. Of course, the Institute raids are still a serious problem... but even those have been sparse lately."

Nodding, Nora stood and led the way, following the path marked by the line. "Almost as if they are up to something, wouldn't you say?"

"Perhaps." Preston shrugged, adjusted the grip on his musket and took a quick look around before moving on. "But even if that is the case, they only target industrial buildings now, the tech-related areas that seem to be within the Brotherhood's interest, as well. Hopefully they'll just exterminate each other at some point and save us the trouble... no offense to you and your paladin friend. At least the two of you don't shy away from helping the little people when there's the need for it."

"I see you've been keeping an eye on me all this time, hmm?"

"Indeed, I have. Like it or not, you're my General, and you have saved my life. This is something I will never forget. Making sure you are all right is the least I can do in return for that."

When a giant overturned truck blocked their way in a narrow alley, Nora approached it to find a way to climb over it, but instead she turned to face her companion. "Don't be an idiot. You owe me nothing. Whatever debt there was between us, you have paid it a multitude of times already. I'd really fucking like you to accept that fact at last."

"With all due respect, General, it is my decision when that debt is paid, not yours."

They stood close enough to each other for Nora to feel the warmth of his body in the late night's chill. It was a nice feeling. Strangely... comforting. Soothing. She looked up into the man's kind, brown eyes. There was no desperation burning in them any more, no self-hatred, no shame or guilt that had been lurking there when she saw him for the first time. Preston was a changed man, he had crawled out of the dark hole he had been living in... a monumental feat she was far away from achieving herself.

Patting his chest awkwardly, she managed a weak smile. "Suit yourself, you foolish guy. But I still say that this kindness of yours will be the death of you one day."

He tilted his head. "If it so happens, I'd say it's a good way to die."

"It really fucking is, actually..." Nora let out a small sigh and suppressed a shudder. "I just... one day, when I grow up, I want to be like you, you know. Lose all that anger, see only the good in people, enjoy the--"

"No."

"What..?"

Taking off his glove, Garvey reached out to touch her cheek with just his callused fingertips. "Don't ever change. It was your anger that had allowed you to kill the raiders who had me and others ambushed in Concord... without it, you wouldn't have had the strength to kill for the first time, to take one life just to save another. Without it, you would be a broken husk of a woman, haunting an abandoned vault until the end of her days. Be yourself, because this is what you are doing best. This the only way you can achieve great things."

"Fuck. How I've longed to hear someone say exactly that." Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes and leaned into the gentle touch. " _You don't have to fucking change, Nora. You're just fine being you, Nora..._ "

Preston chuckled and, with a slow brush of his thumb, wiped a tear that rolled down her cheek. "You are one of the strongest people I know and I have always admired you, General. You have been through the hell of pain and loss no one else in this world had suffered, and yet... look how far you have come, how much you have achieved, how many obstacles you have overcome. Caravan people keep telling stories of how you can wrangle a walking suit of grumpy armor into rescuing kidnapped people and eliminating gangs of ambushers on the roads."

That made her laugh out loud. "That's the best description of Danse I have ever fucking heard!"

The merriment was cut short by a whine of a bullet passing right over their heads and an angry raider's yell. "Who's there? Show yourself, cowards, I promise to make a quick work of you!"

Nora swore under her breath and readied the rifle. "Danse would have my hide for this. Rule number one, no socializing on the battlefield, damnit."

"Oh, I don't know. It does seem like your laugh has actually saved our lives." Preston countered with a smile that bordered on cheeky. "If you hadn't alerted them, we would just climb over that truck straight into their ambush."

"Damn you and your silver linings, Garvey."

 

* * *

  **[23:17, MAY 9th, 2278]**

 

The fabled Railroad turned out to be much less than Nora had expected them to be. Sure, the fierce girl with a minigun bigger than herself was a formidable addition to an otherwise unimpressive team, but the whole Follow the Freedom Trail gig was certainly a flop. Especially as the culmination of it was just a cheesy word puzzle that didn't even pretend to not be a super-awesome-secret lock leading straight to their HQ. Not with all the power cables leading from the turning plate towards a poorly masked door in the wall, anyway.

And now they dared to blind her with a fucking construction light in the face and demand answers? Bullshit.

"Look, you had me crawling all night through the fucking raider-infested ruins, back and forth, and around like a total moron following your fancy trail, so here I am. I passed your silly test, so obviously I am worthy, right?" Nora shouldered her rifle and took a casual stance. "You help synths, and I say it's a damn worthy cause, so we're not enemies here. I'm here on business and you can bet your asses you are gonna like what I have to offer, so why don't you cut the fucking spy movie drama and get real for a change, hmm? If I meant you any harm, I'd come here with a fucking army."

The minigun girl snarled. "Yeah, army. Rumor has it you're Brotherhood."

"We should hear her out at least." A man sporting an outrageous pompadour and a pair of sunglasses had joined them in a hurry. "Come on, Des, from what I've heard and seen, the Brotherhood's goal is to destroy the Institute and she's their modus operandi somehow. Besides, she may be with the bucketheads, yet she came alone, accompanied by the _de facto_ leader of the Minutemen himself. That's all I need to trust her good intentions. "

"Finally, some sense." Offering Preston a private, grateful smile, Nora reached into her shoulder bag for the courser chip. "This used to be buried in a courser's skull not too long ago. It holds some information I need, and I was told you are the only ones able to decode such shit. Help me with that, and the thing is yours. I just need the data."

The one called Des threw away the cigarette she'd been idly holding all that time. A somewhat failed attempt at covering her excitement at the offer. "Where did you get that?"

"Take a fucking guess?" Nora rolled her eyes. "My buckethead friend, paladin Danse, killed one and, apparently, it was quite an easy feat."

"Danse? _Paladin_ Danse?" The pompadour guy burst out laughing. "Well, shit, of course it was easy... I bet they just had a dance off and--"

Nora growled. "Yeah, it is a rather ridiculous name, but let's be adults here for a while longer, yes? Right now I need to know: do we have the fucking deal or not. I'm not getting any younger standing here like a hooker under the streetlamp."

"We do have the deal. I'm Desdemona, the leader of the Railroad. These are Glory and Deacon. Follow me, you will have the honor to enter our headquarters."

The annoying light had been turned off and, right behind Nora's back, Preston let out a sigh of relief. He did not shoulder the musket, however, and she was grateful for it. Stepping inside an old catacomb chamber turned into a messy base, she felt none of the confidence the group had tried so hard to project. If she had to take a guess, they seemed more wary and exhausted than confident, like soldiers after a lost battle. Following the other woman, Nora did not care to ask, however. Whatever their woes had been, all that mattered to her was getting the signal's frequency from the chip, and then.... no, she would not think about _then_. Not just yet.

"Are any of you synths?" She asked bluntly when Tinker Tom handed her the holotape at last.

Glory glared from across the room. "Why? Taking notes so you can drag Brotherhood here later on and deal with us?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Look, I know it may be a shocker to you, but I'm no more a fan of the Brotherhood's methods than you are. If I could, I'd just get the hell out of their ranks in an instant, but I can't, I need them... so shut it, all right? I was asking because I'm genuinely fucking curious. I've never met a human-like synth before."

Deacon snorted another laugh at that and excused himself from the room while Glory simply hid her face behind an old, yellowed newspaper.

"What? I said something that was funnier than his hairdo?"

"In a way," Desdemona offered, tossing a quick frown at the corridor where Deacon had disappeared. "Chances are, you have met many 3rd generation synths already, you simply did not notice. For their own safety, most of those we rescue are not even aware of their origin. We give them fake memories so they can have a chance at normal life, without constant fear of the Institute coming back to enslave them again."

"That is actually a brilliant way to help them adapt," Preston admitted, relaxing at long last. "If they think they are human, they will act like humans, and won't keep looking over their shoulder, reducing the risk of detection to zero, pretty much."

"What he said, yeah." Nora nodded. "Well, anyway, we gotta go. Tight schedule and all that. Best of luck with your work... and I mean it."

Lighting yet another cigarette, Desdemona led them to the exit. "Before you go, I'd like to make you an offer... I don't know what you meant saying you need the Brotherhood of Steel, and I will not pry, but if you ever want to join us in our fight for freedom of all synths, I'd welcome you with wide open arms. You have the right spirit for this kind of work and I could use more people like you in our ranks."

"You wanted to shoot me half an hour ago and now you want me to join? Quick fucking change of heart, right there." Hearing Preston's meaningful cough, Nora sighed and reached out a hand. "Whatever your reasons for that, thanks... I'll... think about it."

The Railroad leader took a moment before offering a firm but quick handshake. "For the record," she drawled, taking a long drag off her cigarette and letting the smoke waft from her lips as she spoke, "if any of my spies confirm that you have successfully used this data to contact the Institute without informing us about that first... I will have to consider you hostile and dangerous to us."

"Send the pompadour guy in to shoot me if that happens," Nora replied with a fake grin and spun on her heel to leave the headquarters. "I'll be up on the Prydwen."

When the not-so-secret door slid into its place leaving her and Preston alone in the narrow catacomb corridor, Nora rushed towards the surface, muttering filthy curses and only stopping out in the streets when Garvey blocked her way.

"You sure like to wave your Brotherhood allegiance a lot for someone who claims to not approve of their ways," he pointed out, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "Is there something I should know?"

Nora shrugged him off. "Like what?" She pretty much barked the two words at the man, making him wince at the hostility in her voice.

"Like what's going on with you and the Brotherhood of Steel exactly. You claim to disapprove of them, but you remain a part of them. You wear their uniform, but you don't execute ghouls on the spot like any other knight would. You tell me that paladin you travel with is your friend, and yet you had to ask me for help. You say you need them, but won't say what for. It seems like there's something very wrong going on, General." Seeing as she was about to lash out, he cupped her cheek in his hand, pressing the thumb gently against Nora's lips. "And before you tell me it's none of my _fucking_ business, all I really want to know is... what can I do to help you get out of trouble?"

"Nothing." Nora deflated like a pierced balloon, all the angry denials escaping her in a weary sigh as she stepped away from the man. "It is none of your or anyone's business, but Danse really _is_ my friend, one of the best I've ever had. But right now he won't talk to me and it's my fault. And no, I don't need the Brotherhood. On the fucking contrary. Their leader needs me and he will do anything to get what he wants from me... but, as I said, there's exactly nothing anyone can do about it, so why bother whining, right? You know I'm not exactly a sharing person."

Growling at his overly concerned expression, she began pacing the small paved area in front of the church's building. "Oh, fine, you stubborn-- Maxson wants to destroy the Institute. Wipe it out, and everyone in there. I don't give a flying fuck about the Institute, but it just so happens that's exactly where Shaun is... so I can't let the fucking Elder just waltz in there and pack everyone full of lead. I may have chosen to not be a mother-at-all-cost for Shaun, but I just can't ignore the fact that my child will be slaughtered along with his kidnappers... family... whatever. The only way to achieve that for me is to find a way in, just like Maxson wants, get there first and find my boy. If that means using an untested device that will tear me to shreds in one place to put me back together in another, then so be it. I'm gonna get in, grab my son, and get out... and then the knights and paladins can do whatever the fuck they want. I don't care... I don't."

When Nora's voice broke, Garvey pulled her in for a tight hug... and she let him, melting into the embrace with her face buried on his chest. "So your plan to let Shaun live his happy new life undisturbed didn't exactly work out..."

"Ya think?"

Ignoring the rude remark, he moved away a little to look into her tear-damp eyes. "Do you realize that the Minutemen could help you with that as well? We have some brilliant technicians in our ranks. More importantly, we have Sturges. I bet my hat he could make a good use of that courser data you just obtained and get you inside the Institute. And not alone, but with a support group of people you can trust. "

She threw a weak punch at his chest. "No, damn you. If Ingram couldn't work that out, no one could, and... I'm stuck with the Brotherhood, Preston, whether I want it or not. If I bailed out on them now... if I... deserted... Maxson would hurt people I care about. I won't let that happen, so I'm thoroughly fucked, you just gotta accept that."

"He's blackmailing you."

"Pretty fucking much, yeah. But I don't want to talk about it." Wiping her nose with the back of a hand, she took a deep breath and pointed towards the Prydwen looming in the distance. "I just want to get this all over with before I lose my shit and simply murder that bearded fucker with a rusty spoon, all right?"

"All right, my General." Garvey gestured for her to lead the way. "Come on, I'll go with you to the airport, then I'll return to Sanctuary, but if you ever need help dealing with the man who holds you hostage, do let me know."

"Sadly, that's never going to happen. Danse would cry his pretty eyes out if we gutted his idol. And he would never speak to me again. I-- Fuck, I'm not sure I would survive that."

An unpleasant frown crossed Preston's features, there and gone before Nora could notice it. "From what you say, he's not talking to you anyway right now."

"Yeah, and it's precisely because I tried to strangle Maxson with my bare hands for stupidly risking Danse's life just to prove a point... but he'll get over that. Shit, at least I hope he will, it's not the first time he's giving me the silent treatment."

"You really like that paladin... _a lot_ , don't you?"

"What?" She stopped abruptly, looking over her shoulder to glare daggers at him. "Oh, come the fuck on, why does everyone assume I'm sleeping with him? Can't a chick and a guy just be friends without exchanging fluids every night? If that was how things worked, I'd also be screwing a rusty synth, an infuriatingly cocky ghoul, and you, Preston Garvey. And I sure as heck do not recall bedding you, mister _de facto_ leader of the Minutemen. Unless I was drunk off my ass and I just don't remember."

"I would never take advantage of--"

"I know!" She interrupted him with an angry wave of a hand. "You're the perfect gentleman, probably the last damn one left on Earth and I respect the shit out of you for that. I was just... you know what, never mind, let's just fucking move on."

"Let's, indeed."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal headcanons in this chapter:  
> \- Danse was a courser rescued by the Railroad, they gave him the new identity and background.  
> \- Glory gave Danse his first name, Victor, because rescuing an actual courser from the institute was a _glorious victory._  
>  \- Deacon was obviously the one to give Danse the ridiculous surname.


	19. Son of a bitch

* * *

**[16:10, MAY 25th, 2278]**

 

"I heard Elder Maxson got that scar on his face fighting a Deathclaw one on one."

"That supposed to be impressive? Please." Nora snorted, making herself more comfortable on the cantina's stool. "Mama Murphy butchered one of those beasts all on her lonesome, too. With just one bullet she had left in her pipe gun after slaughtering an entire gang of raiders. She's that awesome."

Harper tilted his head, eyes wide. "Who's Mama Murphy? She a Gunner leader or something?"

"No one really knows, she's as mysterious as the mysterious stranger. More deadly, tho."

"Knight Davenport, I think you are shitting me."

Placing a hand on her heart, Nora batted her eyelashes at him. "I would never!" She sighed, twisting her expression into a scowl. "And mind your language, initiate. There are children around. Somewhere... if they're not dodging bullets on Maxson's order. Heck, you're a child yourself. No, don't you glare at me like that, you are still a baby to me, and I gotta make sure you grow up to be a nice man, not like one of them snotty knights here who are too fucking good to sit next to me these days... not like--"

Swallowing a sob, she reached for her cup and focused on the muddy liquid sloshing inside. When she refused to speak or drink, Harper bent over the counter and twisted himself into an idiotically convoluted position to be able to look into her eyes.

"Don't be sad, ma'am." His baby blues pleaded silently while he stretched his lips in a goofy smile for her benefit. "So much stuff going on right now to be excited about! I've seen that weird device Proctor Ingram is building down at the airport. I dunno what it's for, but it looks awesome! You've helped build it and I've heard it's almost finished, too!"

"You're gonna break your spine if you keep abusing it like that." Taking a sip of her bitter tea, she finally looked up into his eyes. "You're not really helping... but thanks."

"Well, then... how about I tell you that Paladin Danse is standing by Cade's office and trying very hard to not show that he's watching you?"

She perked up at that, but did not look over her shoulder. "You're shitting me!"

"I would never! See for yourself."

When she did look around, Danse immediately spun on his heel and marched off towards his quarters.

"Oh no, you don't!" Slamming the mug against the counter, Nora sprinted after him. She got there just as he stepped into the room, his back stubbornly turned to her even though he paused hearing her frantic screech. "Danse, stop! Stop, you goddamned mulish bastard, we need to talk!"

"There is nothing left to talk about... _soldier_." The last word, thrown at her like a punch, was all he graced her with before he closed and locked the door.

"Oh, yeah? Fine! We do it your way, then. I'm gonna embarrass you in front of every fucking one here, because you are going to fucking listen to me, _paladin_ , even if I have to yell it all at you through this fucking door!"

When he did not deign that with another reply, Nora kicked said door, and sat on the floor with her back against it.

"I know you've read the official report on what I've done. Maxson made it a mandatory reading on purpose, you know. He wanted the others to turn from me, to alienate me. But most of all, he wanted _you_ to reject me. And fuck me, you actually let him succeed. You danced to his tune, you let yourself be manipulated without giving me even a sliver of chance. As if I was nothing to you."

She paused to glare daggers at a nosy scribe passing by and giving her a curious look.

"I'm a lawyer, Danse. I believe in hearing out both sides before passing a judgment, because that's the right thing to do. I really expected the same from you, especially considering that - after all the time we've spent together in the field - you fucking know me better than anyone else does. You know I have nightmares and talk legalese bullshit in my sleep. You know I'm terrified of radroaches. You know I would slaughter anyone who dared to hurt you in any way... because you're my friend, damnit."

Banging the back of her head against the metal separating her from the paladin, she hoped to get through to him... somehow.

"When Maxson told me he had sent you after that courser, I was terrified that I wouldn't be there to help you, to die with you, if need be. That I would never get to sit by a campfire and share a beer with you again, that you'd never show me how to mod a plasma gun, that you-- and then that fucking bastard said that if I don't cooperate, he would-- that he-- and I just fucking exploded, you know? Fuck, yes, I did try to claw his stupid face. I did scream bloody fucking murder, because he was threatening to take the people I care about the most away from me... and you know me, Danse. You know I'd be damned if I let that happen without a fight. You know I lash out when I'm scared. You know I didn't jump at him because I'm some sort of a fucking traitor. Or an Institute spy. Or whatever else he had called me in that shiny report of his. You know it, you damned bastard..."

Danse did not answer, but Nora's little show got a lot of attention from the others. When she wiped her eyes with the back of a hand and looked up again, she caught a glimpse of Quinlan's back as the man retreated to his office. Cade was peeking from around the wall, a strange mixture of shock and pity reflecting on his face as he stared at her openly. The usual cantina crowd that had moved into the corridor to watch the spectacle was gradually dispersing under her glare, but a few stragglers remained, staring at Danse's door intently. Waiting for the grand finale that refused to come.

"Well, fuck you. I'm done humiliating myself for one day." With a mutter curse, Nora stood and rushed for the stairs. After just a couple of steps, she skidded to a halt, turned around and padded back with an accusatory finger pointed at the entrance to the paladin's quarters. "And by the fucking way, I'm going through that devilish device tonight, Danse. And just so you fucking know, in case I get torn to shreds by it and never come back, know that you have failed me, paladin. You have disappointed me. You have hurt me. You're a true knight of Maxson's Brotherhood, and yes, that was a fucking insult!"

Before she had a chance to go on another angry tirade, a pair of armored guard's hands grabbed her and dragged downstairs. "That's quite enough out of you, Davenport. Elder Maxson wishes to see you at the airport. Right now."

 

* * *

**[19:17, MAY 25th, 2278]**

 

It was already dark when, after a brief stop at the armory, the guard led her to what was left of the airport's main terminal. The moldy, once red carpets paved their way towards the machine in a mockery of an official ceremony. _Fucking Oscars night and I'm the goddamn star._

The device was powered now, spewing both hellish howls and electrical discharge alike. Illuminated by the sparks and icy-blue flashes, Ingram's power armor frame gleamed like the cleanest surgical steel. Not knowing why exactly, Nora shuddered at the sight.

"You're finally here, good." Maxson brushed past her and approached the reflector platform. With hands folded behind his back, he looked up towards the glow of the beam emitter. "You know your mission, soldier. If this thing works as intended, you are to contact doctor Li and bring her back to our side. Whatever your personal goal in entering the Institute is, it will have to wait until you are done with that. I hope I do not have to remind you how much is at stake here for you... and your friends."

Ignoring his piercing stare, Nora climbed onto the platform and stood at the center, curling around herself every time a cascade of sparks fell on top of her head. With fingers dug deep into her sides, she struggled to straighten her back, but it was like trying to face a thunderstorm while standing on a burning barn's roof. Worse than a radstorm, even. Too terrifying, too dangerous to let anything else than fear dictate her reactions.

"W-- what if it doesn't work?" She looked down at the Elder, hoping he did not notice just how much her chin quivered. "What will you do then, huh? Who will you bully next into helping you get there?"

Maxson tilted his head a little to the side and did not bother to suppress a shrug. "If it doesn't work... your death will not be a loss for the Brotherhood, you're expendable now that we have the schematics. I'm certain proctor Ingram will find another way to make use of them and get us inside the enemy's headquarters."

"Now that I know how and why it all works, I can play around with the technology until it obeys me, no problem," Ingram offered, stepping away from the console to take place by Maxson's side. "But I do hope you will come back to us in one piece, knight. Actually, I want you to take this holotape with you. Upload the program from it into the first terminal you encounter and let it do its job. Then bring it back to me. With any luck, we'll get a generous glimpse into the Institute's systems. Now, get ready, I'll start synchronizing the signal."

With a quick nod, Nora knelt to check her equipment. Just as Danse had taught her: start with guns and ammo, go through all of the gear piece by piece, and finish with the provisions. She didn't carry much, just a heavily modded laser pistol, and as much of the rest as could be squeezed into the bags and pockets of a scribe's field outfit... and even that felt like too damn much. She wasn't going to war, after all. She was going there to find her son. Somehow. Alone, without support, without--

"I'm ready," she announced at last, her faltering words lost in the intensifying noise from the machinery. "Let's just get this shit over with, one way or another."

While Ingram kept barking commands to scribes helping her maintain a steady power supply, Maxson took a few steps back, positioning himself at a safe distance. Nora watched him shift from foot to foot, his piercing eyes darting from one element of the complex construction to the other, until he lifted an eyebrow in surprise and focused on something behind her back.

"Paladin Danse. I did not expect you to join us here."

Nora's racing heart skipped a beat at that.

He did come to see her off, after all! He still cared, he--

Just as she was about to turn around and greet the man, the emitter heaved and spat out the beam that drowned everything in blinding, white light. Nora barely managed to call out to Danse before the air was sucked out of her lungs and the transition began.

 

* * *

  **[19:42, MAY 25th, 2278]**

 

The moment the beam had dissolved into nothing, blue flames engulfed the entire structure, soon exploding in a cacophony of static and electric discharge, powerful enough to twist metal and break the welding. When Danse dropped the hand shielding his eyes, there were only charred remains of the teleporter left... and no trace of Nora, alive or dead, even though her panicked scream still ringed in his ears.

He did not dare to feel any relief, though.

"How is she going to come back?" Were the first words that left his mouth once Ingram's swearing snapped them all out of shock.

"Well, the Institute can beam people to wherever, it's not like a receiver is needed to travel to or from a given place. If they don't shoot her on the spot, they may just as well teleport her right back here," she explained, casting a quick glance at Maxson. "I certainly did not expect it to be a one time use only device, though."

"There are more variables at play in this op than I am comfortable with. Too many unknown factors to consider." The Elder heaved a sigh. "Let us hope that at least this once knight Davenport manages to do what she was ordered to do."

"Knight Davenport has always been an asset during our missions," Danse corrected and, catching himself using an informal tone, immediately stood at attention. "With all due respect, sir."

"She was also a filthy-mouthed, insubordinate liability, who tried to assassinate your superior, paladin. You would do well to remember that simple fact."

"Not that she could actually do you any harm, Elder," Ingram pointed out with a shrug. "And I heard no complaints against her before... the incident. If anything, I'd say that her presence improved the morale on board." The proctor snorted a quiet laugh. "It was refreshing to watch her pre-war knowledge and lifestyle clash with post-war reality. Gotta admit she took it all in stride, and her lockpicking lesson for Danse has reached legendary status by now."

The paladin found himself smiling at that, but before he could comment, Maxson dismissed them both with a terse command barked over his shoulder.

 

* * *

  **[20:12, MAY 25th, 2278]**

 

The boy behind the glass wall stared at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

"I really am your mom, Shaun. These fu-- the people here stole you from me when you were just a little baby, that's why you can't remember me."

"Stay away, I don't know you!" The kid took another step back, shaking his head in denial, the tone of his voice bordering on hostility. "Father, Father help me, please!"

Nora winced. "Your dad is dead, Shaun. They killed him to get to you." Too damn late had she realized that those were the last words she should have spoken to a frightened child. "But I'm here now, we can get to know each other. I'll show you the world above, the forests, the ocean, the cities. I'll introduce you to my friends... it will be fun, Shaun, you just have to let me in... please, kiddo."

"I don't want to go anywhere with you! Father, where are you! Father!"

A door on the side opened with a hiss, letting a man in. He wore an impeccably clean white lab coat and sported a silver beard that must have taken at least an hour in front of the mirror every morning to look so neat. Ignoring the visitor, he took his time watching the child thrashing in the glass cell. "Not the reactions I had expected," he admitted at last, rattling off a command that made little Shaun go limp and quiet. "Pity."

"What the fuck did you do to my baby?" Nora rushed towards him, acting before she could be bothered to think, the laser pistol in hand and trained on his chest.

The man offered her an amused look. "The child in there is a synth. My latest experiment to test the potential range of simulated emotions... unfortunately, a failed one, as we have just witnessed. We've had much better results with the M7 line, perhaps it was a mistake to shelf that particular project."

"Focus, old man."

"Ah yes, there's a weapon in the equation here, I suppose I should focus on that, indeed... although I really hoped to avoid the barbaric methods of the surface." After one last look at the deactivated synth, he had finally turned his full attention to the woman in front of him. "No matter. You came here looking for your son, I am pleased to inform you that you have found me."

The gun clattered to the floor when Nora's world spun, making her collapse to the ground. "Bullshit," she hissed, even though one good look up into his eyes was enough to know he had told the truth. He had her eyes. And Nate's nose. And... "How the f--? How?"

Shaun stretched his lips in a condescending, cheerless smile. He did not bother to help her up or bring a glass of water, going straight for an explanation instead. "A mind in cryogenic stasis does not register the passage of time. You thought ten years had passed after you were re-frozen, while in reality, you woke up sixty years later, on my command. I'm a grown up man now, and I have the honor and privilege to lead the Institute."

"You? On... your command?" Anger flared up deep inside her gut, allowing Nora to get up to face her son. "You telling me that, for god only knows how many fucking years, you knew that I was frozen there and you never bothered to... to... try and meet me? Find me? You actually kept me locked up there? Was I just a fucking... back-up for you all that time, you little shit?"

He sighed, a slight wince betraying his disgust. "I will let the insults slide just this once, but--"

"You will _what_? I'm your goddamn mother, you don't get to fucking instruct me on etiquette!"

"Are you, really?"

She found no angry retort to that. Her shoulders sagged. "You were stolen from me. I-- I understand that the people here were with you when you grew up and I was not, but it was through no fault of my own. You have no right... you have no fucking right to treat me like that. I was locked up in that fucking freezer when they came and shot Nate to get to you. I watched all that, fucking helpless. I saw the bullet rip through his chest, I--"

"Indeed, my biological father's death was a bit of unfortunate collateral damage, I admit, however--"

"What did you just say? Collateral damage? Wait a fucking minute! I'm just lab rat here! You let me out of the vault, you waited till I got here to show me this... this!" At a loss for words, she pointed to the child synth, ignoring the tears that ran down her cheeks. "All to make me believe I found my son... to string me on and watch me crumble while you take your important scientific note on his... its reactions... Am I right? Is that all you're here for?"

"What else? There is nothing you could possibly offer me at this point, but I - the Institute - can offer you everything you had lost: comfortable, clean, civilized life away from the primitive world of the surface. I can give meaning to your existence again if you join us in saving the world, helping the humankind evolve to the next stage."

"Will this evolution of yours be achieved by taking fathers from families, husbands from wives, children from mothers, and replacing them all with murderous synths? Will it be achieved through sick experiments like those Vault-Tec had conducted? By releasing viruses and diseases on innocent people? By slaughtering entire settlements to get to that one piece of tech you happen to desire? Is that what you're offering me, _son?"_

A dramatic sigh escaped him. "You need to stop thinking like the people on the surface do. I know you used to be a lawyer before the bombs fell; you must be a smart woman, capable of seeing the ultimate goal rather than focusing on the minuscule steps that need to be taken to reach it."

"Not a single word more. I've heard enough to know you're guilty as charged. The great leader of the Institute, my ass. Shit, I can't believe I risked so much coming here! I suffered threats and humiliation to be able to find the way inside this wretched place, to save my son, to do the right thing... but instead of my child, I found a huge pile of stinking disappointment. A ruthless son of a bitch with no ethics, no moral code, and no heart." Nora snarled, noticing a flicker of mockery in Shaun's eyes. "And before you tell me I've just insulted myself with that, remember your own fucking words: I am not your mother. The bitch who let you grow up to be like that is. Now either shoot me or get me out of here, I've had enough of you."

 

* * *

 


	20. Coping

* * *

**[19:22, JUNE 2nd, 2278]**

 

"I hope it's not alcohol that I smell from you." Maxson stood next to the Paladin, leaning over the Prydwen's railing. For a few minutes, both men stared in silence at the barely visible remnants of the teleporter down below. "It's been a week, Danse, give it up. They shot her, end of story. It _was_ a calculated risk, after all. Now we need to move on, find a replacement for Li so the work on Prime can continue while Ingram and Quinlan work on the schematics."

Danse shook his head. "I've lost many soldiers, but still I foolishly hoped I would always be there to protect her," he confessed, closing his eyes with a barely audible sigh. "I'm... not very good at forming bonds, but there was something in her that... I shouldn't have recruited her. I shouldn't have insisted that she joined us. I killed her, Arthur. And I wasn't even there to look her in the eye before it happened."

Maxson rolled his shoulders and straightened up with a stern look at his subordinate. "Were you two romantically involved?"

"Of course not! Baring the fact that it would be highly inappropriate considering I am... was her superior, it would also be against our regulations. You are well aware of that." The Paladin did his best to cover just how much the Elder's question had offended him. "We are--" He winced and corrected himself once more. "We were friends. A damn good team. There was no foe we couldn't tackle... together."

"Sometimes I do forget that you are the perfect soldier, Victor. Our opinions on Davenport may vastly differ, but I have given you the time to mourn. I hope you appreciate that. Now it's time to act." Maxson patted Danse's shoulder and urged the Paladin to follow him inside. "I want you to get back into your power armor now, grab one of the knights or scribes off duty, and head over to Diamond City. There's a scientist there that I want on our project, and you will get her to cooperate by any means necessary. Davenport cost us enough delays, we can not afford any more. Understood, Paladin?"

"Yes, sir. I'll move out right away, but..." Danse hesitated, then fell into step beside the Elder. "I'd like to request your permission to go alone, sir."

Maxson's first reply was an exaggerated sigh as he continued to walk in silence. "Well... you killed a courser, there's nothing down there that would be a danger to you after that," he went on after they entered the Command Deck. "Permission granted, but I don't want to see you moping and drinking on duty ever again. You know the consequences for that kind of behavior can be severe."

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Before he climbed to the upper deck, the Paladin turned to face Maxson once more. "I'm sorry to disappoint, sir."

The Elder dismissed him with an impatient wave of a hand.

 

* * *

  **[06:15, JUNE 4th, 2278]**

 

"You have to let me in at last, General." Garvey kept knocking at the rickety door until his patience was all gone in a frustrated slam of an open hand against the wood. "Nora, please!"

"Go the fuck away, Preston. I'm fine."

"No you are not! It's barely dawn and I can hear you're drunk already. Or still." With a sigh, he pressed his forehead against the door. "You really think I don't know about your nightly escapades to our storage? You went trough our entire alcohol stash already, and even stole some of the store's supply. This is unacceptable, General."

"Then fucking demote me!" A bottle crashed against the wall nearby, making him take a hasty step back while Nora went on one of her angry tirades. "Discharge me with dishonor like the failure that I am and be done with me at last! I've never achieved anything for your Minutemen anyway."

"That is not true and you would know it if you were sober." Leaving the front porch, Preston padded around the building. Standing on tiptoes, he took careful peeks through narrow spaces between planks barring the windows. Just as he had expected, he found her in her son's little room, curled up in what was left of a once comfortable cushioned armchair. He rapped at the rough wood to get her attention again. "I told you once and I will tell you as many times as necessary, I am not going to give up on you! Now get up and open that door, I brought you some food from Mama Murphy."

She lifted her bloodshot eyes to glance at him. Just once. "Not hungry."

Garvey stifled a groan. "Nora, don't be childish. Whatever happened, I will help you work through it and all will be well. Just give me a chance!"

When she refused to move for the next few minutes, he marched back to the door and kicked the moldy scrap of a doormat off the cracked concrete.

"Have it your way. I'm leaving the food basket on your doorstep. I advise you get it before Dogmeat does. We've all pitched in with some of your - and his, unfortunately - favorite treats."

He barely made it to the battered mailbox when the door behind him opened with a screech.

"You know there's no lock here," Nora slurred, swaying and holding onto the wall for support. "Why don't you just come the fuck in?"

"Because I respect you, General." Tipping his hat, he padded back to stand as close as he could while still staying outside, and... he regretted that move almost instantly. Not because of the pungent smell of stale alcohol and unwashed, tired body that had hit him, no. It was the haunted look in her eyes that had rendered him speechless. Further enhanced by her bald head and an alarming loss of weight, it made her resemble a feral ghoul more than a human being. He had to clear his throat before words found him again. "I'll come back to your doorstep tomorrow, and the day after that. Then again, and again. For as long as it takes you to finally accept some help."

Before he could stop himself, he reached out to touch Nora's pale, hollowed cheek, comfort her in any way she would accept, but... she recoiled immediately, stumbling backwards and almost collapsing to the floor.

"No, I really need... should be alone now, Preston." There was gentleness in her words that wasn't there moments before, and he was grateful for that small victory. "I'm sorry, but... one touch and I will break into too many pieces to gather them back together... there are already too fucking many... I... I'm so fucking sorry. Go away. Please."

With that she slammed door in front of his face, leaving the basket right where he had placed it.

"Nora, the food!" He got no reaction, save for the sound of another bottle crashing against the floor somewhere inside the building.

Reaching for his trusty musket, Preston Garvey made his way towards the bridge. He needed a long patrol route now, preferably with something to kill on the way.

  

* * *

  **[06:30, JUNE 4th, 2278]**

 

Tripping over her own legs and hugging the walls, Nora made it back to Shaun's room. She stood over the surprisingly well preserved crib, reaching inside as she would to play with her son... and pulling out one of several bottles stashed there now. It was mostly empty, but a small swig of vodka was better than no vodka, right? Right? Fuck this.

"I would have loved you so fucking much, my little baby boy..."

He was supposed to be her sunshine, her reason to live. She was supposed to do her damned best to be a mother worthy of him... to raise him at least half as well as her own father had raised her.

But the spotlessly clean old man, with flawless beard, impeccable manners, and breathtaking lack of any human emotions was not her son. Not her little snotty baby who peed all over his father the moment the big guy picked him up for the first time. Not the gurgling, burping, pooping mess that wouldn't let her sleep for days while he got sick. Not the grinning, toothless bundle of diapers that loved watching tiny rockets spin over his little head.

No. The ruthless, cold, and more than a little fanatical leader of the fucking Institute was clearly Nate's son. Nate's mother's grandson. Truly lost to their fucking sophisticated genes the moment Nora the farm girl was taken out of his life.

She should have been the one to carry him to the vault.

She had no fucking idea what that would change in the grand scheme of things... except maybe let her feel less like a failure. Let her feel nothing, because she'd be dead and frozen deep under the ground now. Wouldn't that be just so fucking amazing! To just... not feel. To not have to see the concern and disappointment in Preston's pretty eyes. To not have Danse's wide back turned on her as the last memory of her best friend.

To not be such a fucking failure for once.

As anger took over the reins from self-pity, an idea formed in her intoxicated mind and refused to let go. A ridiculous, drunken notion that she could fix it, all of it.

 

* * *

  **[06:52, JUNE 4th, 2278]**

 

Preston had not planned on going as far as the Red Rocket garage, and yet, there he was, looking around the cluttered area. They had it surrounded with a makeshift fence so Sturges could work safely there without annoying everyone with hammering noises whenever he wanted to tinker. After a few molerat invasions and Dogmeat's insistence on having at least three holes in the fence to get in and out of his former home freely, however... well, it wasn't providing much of protection anymore.

Sighing and releasing a puff of warm breath into the cool morning air, Preston closed his eyes and turned his face to the raising sun. He tried to focus on the birds chirping among the trees, on the soft babble of the creek nearby, hoping they would calm him and give him strength to face the day. Yet another day watching the woman he... admired... used to admire for her integrity and inner strength... watching her fall apart right in front of him.

A noise interrupted his thoughts. Repetitive, metallic, downright annoying, and... vaguely familiar? Gripping his musket a little bit tighter, Garvey took position in the middle of the road, right atop the small hill where the Red Rocket was located. Looking down at the road leading to Concord, he waited for whatever was coming, ready to fight and use up some of the frustration still boiling inside him.

Soon enough, he saw a solitary figure climbing up the street, clad in a full suit of power armor polished so much that it looked brand new reflecting the sun like a mirror. When the stranger came to a halt in front of him, Preston noticed the Brotherhood of Steel insignia and, even before the man removed the helmet, he knew who it was.

"Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. I am looking for Preston Garvey, the leader of the Minutemen."

"You have found me," Preston offered, keeping the musket trained right at the center of the Brotherhood logo on the power armor's chest piece. "What do you want? This is a peaceful settlement, we don't seek any trouble with you."

The Paladin tossed a quick look around and tucked the helmet under his arm. "I wanted to talk about Knight Davenport."

Garvey snorted at that. "Took you long enough."

"So... you know already?" If anything, Danse seemed confused.

"No, I don't know, because she wouldn't tell me, but considering the state she is in? I'd say you and your Brotherhood have done something pretty damn dreadful to her." It was difficult to keep calm while facing the man he held personally responsible for Nora's condition. Especially when said man had chosen to play oblivious.

"What are you talking about?"

Tilting his head to the side, Garvey hoped his face expressed all the contempt he tried to put into the words. "And you call yourself a military organization? With your intelligence _that_ lacking?"

"I do not appreciate the insults." To his credit, the paladin held his stare without betraying any emotions whatsoever. "I would, however, appreciate your cooperation and an explanation."

"Very well." Shouldering the musket, Garvey gestured towards the garage's building. "A couple of days ago, her dog found Nora in the Red Rocket here. Judging by the looks alone, she had to walk a long distance and fought off more than one foe before she got there. She was wounded, unconscious, severely dehydrated, and... drunk to boot. I don' know why she chose to risk death and crash here rather than safely with us, but we transported her to her old home in Sanctuary anyway. We took care of her as best we could, but the moment she woke up, she chased us all out and locked herself up in the house. Ever since, she keeps drinking herself into a stupor the moment she sobers up enough to stand on her own... and that's about all the explanation I can give you."

Even though the power armor covered the paladin's entire body, Preston could see that the man had relaxed, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"I see you rejoice at her downfall," the Minuteman said through gritted teeth, only barely fighting the urge to reach for the weapon again.

"No!" Danse's eyes went wide at the accusation. "I was certain she was killed on duty," he explained with enough genuine relief in his voice to make Garvey's anger dissipate. "To find her alive, even in such bad condition, is good news for m-- the Brotherhood."

"Oh. My apologies then."

They stood in awkward silence for longer than was comfortable for any of them, until the paladin shifted on his metal feet and glanced at the bridge behind Preston's back. "Can you take me to her?"

"I can, but don't expect a warm welcome... or anything more than insults thrown at you."

A fond smile flashed across Danse's face. "I'd welcome that."

"You are a strange man... but perhaps you can talk some sense into her." The Minuteman led the way, wondering how Nora could stand the perpetual noise the power armor was making as the other one followed him. "She's always had a very high opinion of you, for some reason."

 

* * *

 

Back in Sanctuary, they found the door to Nora's house wide open... and Dogmeat sprawled across the threshold, happily chewing on the remnants of the food basket's contents.

"Of course, _you're_ the one to eat it all," Preston scolded, stepping over the dog to peek inside. "General? Are you in there? You have a... guest."

"You are a mighty fine beast," Danse complimented, stopping when Dogmeat warned him off with a growl. "I bet you are very useful in a fight."

"She's not here!" Garvey rushed outside, pushing past both the completely unimpressed dog and the paladin who failed to conceal his concern this time. "We had a bit of an... argument in the morning, I... god, if I pushed her to leave Sanctuary, I will never forgive myself!"

While the other man ran from home to home, asking around for Nora, and frantically checking every nook and cranny, Danse exchanged a quick look with the dog at his feet. "Perhaps _you_ can take me to her, hmm?"

With a happy bark, Dogmeat gathered himself off the floor and sniffed around the concrete path leading out of the house. It took him only a moment to find the right scent and follow it down the street. Refusing to wait for the panicked Minuteman, the Paladin trudged after the animal.

The moment they crossed a small bridge and began quick climb up the hill past it, Danse knew they were heading for the vault. He remembered the way all too well from that cold, December night when he accompanied Nora there just after she joined the Brotherhood. So much had happened since then... so much had changed... whether for the better, he could not tell.

"Wait here, I'll bring her back," he told the dog and slammed the button initiating the elevator's descent. 

The circular platform screeched and trembled as it began its way down with his additional weight on it, indicating that the condition of the mechanism had greatly deteriorated since the last time Danse used it. With his own and Nora's skills combined he had no doubt they would be able to fix it should the need arise, but still he hoped fervently that the machinery had enough strength left in it for one more trip up... 

Just before the safety door had slid closed above his head, he could hear Garvey calling out to him, but he decided to ignore the man. This was strictly perso-- Brotherhood business, after all.

Down in the vault, the corridors were faintly lit, the emergency lighting most likely never shut down after Nora turned it on during their previous visit. Knowing the way, the Paladin headed straight for the cryo rooms, guessing that was where his knight had headed as well. As he passed the first row of the metal pods, he noticed that the vault's generators were operating at enough capacity to keep all of them functional, even though they only held corpses of the people they were supposed to save...

More victims of a ruthless pre-war company exploiting technology and innocent citizens for monetary gains. Muttering a curse, he marched on.

The last pod in the left row was still open, just like it was five months ago. This time, however, there was a small, unmoving figure curled in the uncomfortable half-seat. In her arms, she clutched a messy bundle that looked like a faded baby blanket. For a moment, Danse simply stared, something in his chest clenching so hard it caused him almost physical pain. In the clouds of ice-cold air wafting from the leaking piping, she seemed as dead as her husband in the container just across. If not for her chest raising and falling slowly, the paladin would be panicking just as much as the Minuteman on the surface...

"Knight Davenport, it's time for you to wake up." He spoke at normal volume at first, not wanting to startle the woman. When that failed to rouse her, he cleared his throat and tried again. "On your feet, soldier!"

Nora winced and curled herself around the bundle of moldy wool, in something that could only be a protective gesture. "I'm not giving you Shaun... he's mine... my own..."

Danse reached out to poke her arm with an armored finger. "Nora... it's me, Danse."

The moment he spoke his own name, he had a pair of bloodshot, yet keen brown eyes staring up at him. "You... how...?"

"It does not matter. You are alive and I've found you. I would like to know, however, what the hell are you doing down here. The tech is failing, it is not a safe place to stay in anymore."

Her face crumpled. "I brought him here... and I wanted to... but this fucking pod wouldn't close... hinges rusted and I couldn't..." She shook her head and looked down at the blanket in her arms. Her expression twisted from crestfallen to hateful within a moment, and she pushed the scrap of fabric away from her. "He used me, Danse... to get rid of Kellogg, the test his new experiment... to get him his precious data, to... he fucking used me just like everyone else has!"

"I'm not going to pretend I understood any of that," the paladin admitted, unsure of how to react to this outburst. "But I wanted to apologize to you. In fact, I should have done that before you disappeared. I was not fair in my judgment of your actions and it deeply shames me. I should have listened to you."

"I-- Thank you." She held his stare until tears welled in her eyes. "You are the only person in this whole fucking world who has never tried to use me, not once. And then I fucking lost you, and then Shaun... and I just wanted it to stop hurting so fucking much, you know? So I came here, and... and..."

Once the meaning of her words had registered in his mind, Danse stepped out of the power armor and pulled her in for a rough, clumsy hug. It was an impulsive act, something he could not prevent from happening, or control, even if he wanted to. "Don't ever do that again," he growled, resting his chin on top of her bald head. "I just got you back from the dead, I won't let you go like that, you hear me? I won't let you!"

Nora sobbed into his chest. "I'm sorry... I know I said I'd never apologize to anyone for who I am, but to you... to you I can... and I'm just so fucking sorry that I'm a disappointment for you, that I fail at everything I try, that I'm such a useless fucking sack of meat, that..."

"Shut up, soldier. That's an order."

"Y-yes, sir."

Danse could not tell how long they stood like that in comfortable silence, but he waited patiently until she had no tears left, and her shoulders stopped trembling in his embrace.

"Did you manage to find him? Your son?" He asked at last, pulling away to look at her face, but she refused to meet his eyes.

"No. They zapped me out the moment I got in... I did get the tape for Ingram, though, for what it's worth... the terminal was right there... you can take it, if you wish."

Frowning, the Paladin decided to ignore that blatant lie. At least for now. "That tape may bring us some invaluable data," he offered instead of a reprimand, "so the mission was at least a partial success. You should also know that Elder Maxson has already implemented procedures to assure we're making steady progress against the Institute. Anyhow, let's get topside so I can signal for a vertibird. Your Minuteman told me you were wounded when they found you, and I'll feel better once Cade examines you properly."

Nora took a hasty step away at that. "No! Don't make me go back there! If Maxson thinks I'm dead, let me stay dead, please..."

Danse glared. "That's out of the question, Knight. However briefly, you _have_ been inside the enemy's headquarters. It's imperative that you make a full report to the Elder and deliver that tape for analysis."

"No."

Folding arms on his chest, the paladin leveled her with a hard stare. "Explain why not, then. And make sure to tell me the whole truth this time."

"I... I just don't want to be Maxson's punching bag again, that's all."

"Do you know why I pushed you so hard during your first days in the Brotherhood? Because I wanted to bring out the best in you. Because I knew you were capable of great things. And I was right." Sighing, Danse climbed back into the metal suit. "With that in mind, do remember how I have misjudged your actions towards the Elder, and consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you are misjudging him as well."

Nora perched on the edge of the open cryo pod and kept staring at her feet. "I don't want to be Brotherhood anymore."

"Then at least have the courage to leave like the soldier that I have personally trained," he threw the harsh words at her, unable to control the irritation in his voice any longer. "Leave with your head high and confidence in your step, not like a coward that sneaks out in the dark to hide her guilt."

"Fuck you, Danse!" Jumping to her feet, she moved too quickly, lost her balance and had to steady herself against the pod's door. "You know fucking good and well that I am not a coward!"

He smiled. "I do know, and I'm pushing you to prove that to all the others as well. Maxson included."

"Fuck you, I said." Moving past him, Nora headed for the exit. "Now go, call for your fucking vertibird."

 

* * *

 

 


	21. You don't need me

* * *

  **[08:30, JUNE 15th, 2278]**

 

"They offered to let me join them to help reshape the humankind to their liking, whatever that means," Nora reported, standing at attention in front of the Elder, her posture perfect and eyes fixed on a point somewhere above the man's shoulder. "I told them to kiss my prewar ass and either kill me right then and there or let me go. They chose to zap me out."

Maxson narrowed his eyes, watching her like the proverbial hawk, seeking the smallest cracks in her composure. "There is more to it than you are telling me, Knight."

"Yes, there is," she admitted without so much as a blink.

The silence that fell after her words was deafening, even despite the Prydwen's engines humming in the distance. Danse shifted in the safety of his power armor. For reason unknown to him, he felt uncomfortable being present for that exchange, as if he was intruding on something that was not his to witness.

"Well?" The Elder was the first to speak. There was more than a hint of impatience in his voice, and the Knight narrowed her eyes.

The Paladin let out a small sigh. There she was, teasing and provoking her superior in order to... what? Humiliate the man? Make him appear less in control of his own temper? For what purpose?

"The Institute kidnapped my son while I was in cryo," Nora explained after a small pause, her face blank like a mask... one she had put on all the way back in the vault, and refused to remove ever since. "I hoped to find him there."

"I see." Maxson frowned, taking a generous moment to process the new data. "I wish I had that information earlier, Knight. I might have chosen someone else for the teleport mission, considering how emotionally compromised you have been. Was that the reason why you had failed to contact Doctor Li? Because you were too busy looking for your child?"

Danse didn't think it was possible, but she straightened up even more. He was sure that had he bothered to look more closely, he would be able to see her muscles quivering under the strain.

"I have no child," Nora announced, calm and cool, as if she was speaking about the weather. "The Institute scientists only needed his DNA for experiments, because he was an infant, untainted by radiation. He's gone now."

Maxson did not reply. When he caught himself staring wide-eyed at the Knight in front of him, he spun on his heel and took a few steps towards the windows, turning his back at both soldiers.

The Paladin's face fell as he turned his eyes away as well. So that was the part of the story she had refused to share with him in the vault. Considering this new information, was he wrong pushing her to come back? Was he wrong tearing her away from her home and people who cared about her? The Brotherhood clearly was not the source of stability and comfort for her, perhaps she would be better off left alone there to her mourning...

He clenched his fingers into fists, the metal frame following the movement with an unpleasant crunch. Was he supposed to let her drink herself to death in that cold room filled with frozen corpses, then? Hell, no. Before he could think better of it, Danse made a tiny step closer to Nora, only one, hovering at the edge of her vision. He would be there for her.

A full minute had passed before Maxson cleared his throat and faced them again. "I... am sorry to hear that. Accept my condolences, Knight." There was genuine sorrow in the man's words, for which Danse was infinitely grateful.

Nora, however, shrugged it off with frightening ease. "Unnecessary. I am done grieving, Elder."

With that, the atmosphere in the room had shifted again, as if a strike of lightning had unleashed all the energy accumulated in the confined space. After a curt nod at no one in particular, Maxson began pacing the room.

"Very well, then. I must admit that despite my extreme disappointment with your failure, I like this changed version of you, Davenport. You stand at attention, you haven't insulted me once... yet. Are you sure you are not a synth replacement?"

"Why don't you cut me open and play with my guts to find out?" She snarled, the first show of actual feelings since they entered the Command Deck. "In other words: fuck you, sir."

"Ah, yes, that's more like you." The Elder let out a mirthless chuckle at her outburst. "Now, seeing that you two are on speaking terms again, I have a mission for you and Paladin Danse. Ingram will fill you in on the details, but you'll be happy to know that a thorough search of the Glowing Sea is required again.

"Son of a mangy bitch."

Maxson shot her a private smile that Danse failed to categorize. "Dismissed."

 

* * *

 

"How do you do it?" The Paladin asked once they both geared up and Nora was done throwing filthy curses at her set of power armor.

"What?"

He fumbled for words. "You disrespected your superior and he... welcomed it? There was something going on in there that I did not understand."

"There are many things you do not understand about your infallible Elder, Danse." Nora stopped, grunting a little as she struggled to turn herself and the added weight of metal to face him. "Many things."

"Are there?" He could see her wince at the defensive hostility that had crept into his voice, but still he went on. "Then why don't you enlighten me, hmm?"

"No." She covered her discomfort with a smile that hit him like a punch in the gut. Somehow he had managed to hurt her feelings, again. "You trust him, Victor. You believe in him. Fuck, he's your role model while you should be his. I will not ruin that for you."

Danse could only shrug at that. "I doubt you could even if you tried."

"And let's leave it at that." Letting her smile drop like a sack of tatos, Nora took her time turning back to enter the Flight Deck.

After a moment of hesitation, Danse stepped around her and blocked the way. "Does this mean you are staying with us?"

"I did get myself into this fucking tin can again, no?" Nora sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I'm staying. I don't want to, but I have nowhere else to go, really."

"You have a decent house in Sanctuary. And people who care about you there." The moment he spoke the words, Danse wished he could take them back. What the hell was he doing? Pleading for her to leave? Fortunately, Nora seemed unconvinced by his suggestion. Annoyed, even.

"Fuck, no. I saved their lives and they're just grateful. Overly, unnecessarily fucking grateful, to the point of making it a chore. Duty. Obligation. I hate it. They are all good people, but they aren't... my people."

The Paladin breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, who _are_ your people, then? Do you even know that?"

Nora finally looked up, holding his gaze in silence long enough to make him fidget.

"I do."

With nothing more said, she put on her helmet and marched off towards the vertibird... leaving him as confused as ever.

 

* * *

**[22:17, JUNE 16th, 2278]**

 

Nora breathed a deep sigh of relief when the heavy blast door closed behind them. The moment the thick metal wing swung into place, her Geiger counter stopped yelling and there was only blessed silence inside the safety of the helmet. Not for long, though.

"This looks like a missile silo," Danse announced, stepping closer to the catwalk railing to look down. "It seems we have found the place."

"Yeah, yeah." Ignoring everything else for the moment, Nora opened the power armor and stumbled out to the metal floor. Sitting down right where she stood and taking deep breaths, she kept her eyes closed as she leaned against the metal legs for support.

"Are you all right?" .

"Not gonna have another panic attack if that's what you're asking, no worries," she assured him with a weary wave of a hand. "Just... need a moment. That radstorm was almost more than I could handle."

"Take your time, we needn't hurry." His rifle in hands, the Paladin immediately switched into patrol mode, pacing the walkway back and forth and looking around for potential dangers.

"Maxson would disagree with you on that," Nora pointed out, watching him with a fond smile stretching her chapped lips.

He stopped to toss her a quick look. "Maxson can wait 5 minutes longer."

Well, that was unexpected. "Thank you for this." She tilted her head, focusing solely on the man in front of her as he went back to his five steps to the left - five steps to the right - repeat - routine. "And... Danse?"

"Yeah?"

"I never thanked you for saving my ass in your report from our previous trip here. I know forging a malfunction in my armor and writing it in as a flaw... well, it couldn't have been easy for you."

Shouldering the rifle, he approached and looked down at her through the dust-speckled visors. "There's no need for any thanks. I did what I thought was right."

His speaker modulated voice gave no clues, and Nora hated not being able to see his eyes... she had to ask. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"You put my needs before Brotherhood's needs, Victor. Why?"

Danse sighed. "Because I know the procedures. I knew you would be dragged through an official hearing, followed by an extensive psychological evaluation and a long trial period after that. I knew you would not be allowed to leave the Prydwen for weeks or even months in the process." Pausing, the Paladin took off the helmet and tucked it under his arm. "I didn't need any of that to know that you were perfectly capable of continuing your work as a soldier. If I am fit for duty, so are you."

"You're my goddamn hero, Danse, you know that?"

He blinked rapidly, then turned around as fast as the power armor allowed him to. "We should get moving."

 

* * *

 

The cavernous room held hundreds of bombs, arranged in neat rows like cornflake boxes in a supermarket. It was a terrifying sight, one that made Nora turn her eyes away and focus on the signal emitter in her hand. So much death in here and she was giving it all to the warmonger she despised with every fiber of her being. To the man who was going to use it to... to...

The moment she flipped the switch, a red light began blinking on top of the device, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever the consequences, the mission was over. They could take the elevator up and get out of this fucking death trap, back to... where, exactly? Her stupid brain had almost thought of the tricky word _home_ , but... the Prydwen sure as fuck wasn't that. Home equaled safety and there was no safety for Nora anywhere for as long as her emotional attachments kept her on Maxson's leash. With a sigh, she looked around to locate Danse.

The Paladin stood awkwardly in the middle of the storage room, metal fingers of his armor clenched to fists as he looked around the packed shelves, seemingly oblivious to the frantic chatter of his Geiger counter. Something was wrong.

"Danse?"

He did not turn to face her. Once again cursing inwardly at the power armor concealing any and all body language and facial expressions, Nora took a few steps towards the man. When the increasing radiation level brought all kinds of alarms to her helmet's HUD, she stopped, struggling to control her trembling voice.

"Victor... we should move on. It's not safe to stay here."

"No," he countered, stubbornly refusing to come closer or even look at her. " _You_ should get back to the Prydwen, I have my own orders."

"What fucking orders? I was there when Maxson sent us here, remember? He had no special orders for you." Despite her calling him out, the Paladin still refused to move. Nora felt the cold touch of fear creeping up her spine. "What the hell is wrong with you all of a sudden? Was it something I said? Talk to me, damn you!"

"I will stay here to make sure every single one of these warheads makes it safely onto the transport and into our stockpile at the airport," he rattled off in his most annoying CO voice. "You are to report back and continue helping with the reconstruction of the Prime."

"You really want me to walk out there alone?" Ignoring the warnings, Nora rushed towards him and punched his chest plate with her own metal fist. "No fucking way my sorry ass is going anywhere without you!"

When the clang of clashing metal stopped echoing from the walls, Danse let out a weary sigh. "You don't need me."

"Of course I fucking do, you're my rock, Danse, my safe goddamn harbor in a fucking radstorm! And my selfish needs aside, I am so not going to leave you all alone here. Look the fuck around, the fucking air is glowing, these are all big motherfucking nuclear bombs, being alone here for even an hour is just... scary as all hell, all right?"

"Nora... please. I want this mission to be an overwhelming success. I want Maxson to see that you... that we are capable of doing even the impossible. If I'm reading the evidence we've gathered here right, this is the one site the Chinese were aiming at during the war, the very reason behind the giant crater that created the Glowing Sea. This is a great discovery that needs to be reported ASAP."

"Come the fuck on, Danse, you don't need to prove yourself to him. He sucks at giving praise where it's due, but he already knows you're one of his best and most loyal soldiers... even if he has a shitty way of showing it by sending you on suicide missions."

The Paladin sighed again, "I'm not looking to prove my own loyalty."

"You... oh." Nora took a step back as her mind tried to wrap itself around Danse's sudden shift in behavior. "So... you want to make sure I'm not worthless to him even without you around...? But... why? Do you plan to... not be around?"

He straightened up, turning slightly away from her. "You should go now, soldier."

Frustrated, she stepped around and placed herself in his personal space, forcing him look at her once more. "What the actual fuck, Victor... we're friends, don't you soldier me!"

"Nora. Go. Now." Danse surprised her, placing an armored hand on her suit's shoulder and squeezing the metal plate there until it made a woeful sound. "That's an order."

Swallowing tears, she welcomed the anger that had flared up at those words. "That's how you wanna play it? Fine, you bastard. Fine, _sir_. You just... you be damn careful around here, you hear me? If anything happens to you, I will find you, and I will personally kick your paladin ass into oblivion. Mark my fucking words, damn you."

Proud of herself for not looking around, Nora marched off towards the elevator and slammed the button there hard enough to rattle the entire shaft.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of my personal headcanon here: I'm not sure if this was the game writer's intention or just me imagining things, but the final conversation with Danse at the bomb silo has always seemed weird to me, like him saying goodbye, of sorts. That's why I headcanon that starting the bomb retrieval mission Danse already knew about the tape revealing his synth identity, and he knew this was his last mission for the BOS, his last mission with SoSu. He knew they would never see each other again, because he would be dead, as every synth abomination should be, according to what he believed in. With SoSu gone, Haylen and her squad arrived to retrieve the bombs, and somehow she sensed something was not right with the Paladin. As the in-game dialog later confirms, she convinced him to go hide in the bunker rather than end his life right then and there... and that's how we got the Blind Betrayal to happen.


	22. Blind Betrayal

 

* * *

 

**[19:04, JUNE 19th, 2278]**

 

"You're a really skilled mechanic," Ingram complimented, watching Nora work on one of Prime's actuators. "It must have been at least a part of your job before the war, am I right?"

"I mostly ran a farm with my father, but yeah, it was my job to fix anything that broke down, from pipes to tractors," Nora explained, wiping her forehead and casting a quick look up at the Prydwen in the distance. It's been two days since the Glowing Sea mission and, even though the bombs have already been delivered, there was no sight of Danse.

The Proctor followed her gaze. "Don't worry about him, I'll bet my best titanium wrench that he's fine. Knowing him, our favorite Paladin has probably stopped to help fight off raiders at one of the outposts on his way. He used to keep doing that before he took up your sponsorship, there was never such a thing as a downtime for him."

"Thanks, that's... good to know. And I'd go ask Maxson, if anyone knows where Danse is, it's him, but..."

"But you're not exactly friends with our young Elder, yeah, I've noticed." Heaving a somewhat overdone sigh, Ingram patted the other woman's shoulder. "Tell you what, it's too late to arrange that now, but first thing tomorrow morning I'll go ask him and let you know what he says. Deal?"

Nora nodded, a wide grin brightening her face. "For once I wish I was wearing a power armor right now so I could hug you properly..."

Ingram laughed out loud, drawing the attention of nearby scribes. "That would no doubt start a brand new series of PA erotica down in the recreation area."

"Oh wow, so you read those?"

"Girl, I wrote one myself, and no, I am not telling you which one."

"Holy fuck." Her mouth slightly open and eyes unblinking, Nora stared at her in utter awe. "I've always known you were a damn awesome lady, but this... this is taking you to new heights in my books."

With an utterly girlish giggle, Ingram shooed her away. "Oh, shush. You better get back to your blowtorch, Knight, we have a lot of work to do before the day is done."

 

* * *

**[08:17, JUNE 20th, 2278]**

 

"Where's Initiate Harper?" Nora demanded of a young redhead behind the cantina's counter. "He was always the one taking the morning shift here."

"Harper is being promoted, ma'am," the initiate replied while he kept scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the metallic surface. "He's going to be a field scribe soon, he got assigned to train under scribe Haylen."

"Shit, now I'm gonna worry about him, too. At least he's in good hands down there..." Taking a seat, Nora kept casting nervous looks over her shoulder, but the door to Maxson's private quarters remained shut after Ingram entered there a good half an hour earlier.

When it finally opened, she wasn't the only one leaving the room. Cade and Quinlan followed, their faces grim and stacks of documents in their hands. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Abandoning her chair, Nora ran, passing by the other two officers and skidding to a halt in front of the Proctor.

"Go right in." Ingram gestured at the open door. "He wants to see you."

"But what about D--"

There were tears in Ingram's eyes when she squeezed her shoulder in a painful grip of metal fingers. "Just go, he'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Oh, fuck, no!" Nora spun on her heel and barged into the room. "Where is he? What have you do--"

She did not finish, stunned by the sight in front of her. Behind a desk littered with papers and holotapes, Maxson was sitting hunched over a half empty whisky glass, keeping the bottle within his reach. Out of his impressive battle coat he looked even younger, if not exactly any smaller... and more than a little tired. It took him only a moment to compose himself and straighten up to meet her gaze, but it was enough for Nora's trained eye to notice that what he had attempted to hide was the feeling of utter and devastating defeat. Even with his expression schooled into righteous anger, even with eyes boring into her with an unspoken accusation, it was clear that he was deeply shaken.

"What happened?"

"I'm the one asking questions here, Knight." He slammed an open hand against the desk. "Isn't there anything you'd like to tell me? A dirty little secret you and Danse had kept from me, perhaps?"

Nora blinked. "I have no fucking idea what you're talking about."

"No? You really want me to believe that you have not been aware of Danse being a filthy synth? An abomination sent by the Institute to spy on us?"

She snorted an ugly laugh at that. "I dunno what's in that bottle, but perhaps you've had enough. That's a ridiculous accusation, even by your ridiculous standards."

Maxson narrowed his eyes, taking in her reaction and nodding. "So it looks like he lied even to you. Not exactly unexpected from a machine, I suppose." He emptied the glass and allowed his shoulders to slouch a little bit. "He... no, _it_ managed to trick all of us."

"Wait... you're actually serious...? I mean... fuck." Nora's legs threatened to refuse to support her and she had to lean against the desk to keep herself standing. "You got a proof? Anything? Where did that even come from? How...?"

Noticing her arms trembling, the Elder stood and, in an unexpected gesture of kindness, brought a chair for her to sit on. "The holotape you recorded at the Institute contained DNA data files of all their escaped synths. Danse's DNA was among them."

A single, broken sob tore itself from Nora's throat. "No. It has to be a fucking mistake... it has to..."

"I wish it was, Knight." He offered her a cigarette, lighting one for himself when she only shook her head in response. "I've had both Cade and Quinlan check all the data multiple times. There aren't any doubts left."

Nora took a quick, ragged breath. It all felt like a punch in the gut. Danse, a synth. A spy. An infiltrator. A killer planted into the Brotherhood to find the most efficient way to eradicate them all. A machine, emulating human behavior... spinning intricate lies all that time... gathering sensitive data to-- No. Impossible.

Refusing to meet Maxson's eyes, she reached for the bottle and took a long, greedy swig from it, but her constricted throat refused to let the alcohol pass. Once she stopped coughing and sputtering, an image of a frightened little boy locked up in a glass cage flashed across her mind. No matter how much her motherly instinct had colored what she witnessed there, her artificial son was _genuinely_ afraid. His tears were real, his need for an adult to protect him was real. In his own synth mind, he was just a scared little boy... What if it was all just as real for Danse?

Nora wiped her eyes with the back of a hand and looked at the equally distressed Elder in front of her, perhaps for the first time ever finding some common ground with the man. "What are you going to do with him now?"

He did not reply immediately, instead taking his time to finish off the cigarette and crush it mercilessly in the dirty ashtray. "I'm going to send you out there to find him and execute him."

"Fuck you. Find someone else to do your dirty job, you bastard."

"No, damn you!" Maxson slammed his fist against the desk. "I am sending you, because you know him best. It has to be you, no one else, do you understand? I will have no discussion about that, so don't make me make you, Davenport, you know I could."

The moment she tasted her own blood from the lip she had bit on, Nora bolted. Leaving the door wide open behind her, she rushed along the corridors, down the stairs and walkways, until she could crawl into the darkest corner of the Prydwen's underbelly and curl around herself to cry.

"Are you really going to just put a gun to his head and shoot him like a dog?"

Looking up, Nora found Haylen crouching in front of her, her green eyes wary.

"Do I look like I want to? Shit, I just don't fucking know, Jane," she croaked in reply. "Even if he was lying to me all the fucking time, he's still Danse... my best friend who saved my life so many times... I... but if I don't do it, Maxson will-- oh, god, maybe I should just put a bullet in my own damn head and solve the problem for everyone..."

"He didn't know." The scribe sat next to her, putting a comforting arm around her trembling shoulders. "He waited for us at Sentinel Site Prescott, but he was... different. Distant, absent. Once all the bombs were loaded up, he insisted on staying behind to secure the area, as if I would believe such crap. I took him aside and kept prodding until he told me. He found out by accident, stumbling upon a message Quinlan sent to Maxson about his discovery and forgot to encrypt. It was on the same morning you two got assigned for the mission."

"God, he must have been going through hell al that time and I... fucking hell, I didn't even notice. Some friend I am." Nora sniffled and leaned against Haylen with a miserable hiccup. "So Maxson sent us out on that long mission so he could have Cade and Quinlan keep checking in the meantime... shit, I never thought I'd say this, but I do appreciate that he refused to believe the accusation."

"True, but it doesn't change the fact he wants Danse dead. And that he wants you to execute him."

"Out of pure malice, I'm sure... Haylen, would you ever consider leaving the Brotherhood?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just tell me, please."

"No, I would not. This is my home, my family, my reason to live. I believe in the Brotherhood, Nora, even if sometimes I happen to doubt its Elder."

Nora nodded, keeping her eyes tightly shut, holding back a hysterical laugh that bubbled in her chest. So it has come to this. Whatever she decided to do, someone was going to die as the result. "I'm sorry, Jane."

"Sorry? About what?"

"Just... in general." She offered the other woman a pathetic imitation of a smile that was greeted with an eyeroll.

"Oh, don't go all melodramatic on me here, Knight. Go talk to Danse, he needs a friend now. See if you two can find any way out of this mess."

"Wait, does that mean you know where he is?"

"Psh, of course I do, I chose the hideout for him myself. Let me enter the coordinates into your pip-boy... there. Listening Post Bravo. Not present on any maps we have at our disposal, away from any routes, dilapidated on the surface but with a mostly intact underground shelter."

"You really are the bestest scribe." Nora gathered herself from the cold floor and helped Haylen up, pulling her into a tight hug. "Take good care of Harper for me, will you? I really like that silly boy."

"You know him? He is a nice and smart young man, although I'm afraid he's a bit too... sensitive to be a field scribe. Personally, I'd see him in an archive, or maybe in the science division, but I'll do my best to get him ready for his new duties."

Nora mouthed a filthy curse. Of course Harper's sudden promotion wasn't a coincidence. "I know you will."

Haylen beamed at the praise. "Come on, I'll walk with you to the vertibird. Have the lancer take you to Taffington Boathouse and walk from there once he is far enough. No one should be able to track you down that way."

 

* * *

**[17:13, JUNE 20th, 2278]**

 

From a distance the bunker looked just as Haylen had described it - unremarkable and almost completely covered in wild foliage. If not for a set of turrets rotating on the roof, no one would ever guess it was inhabited. Two rapid shots from Nora's silenced sniper rifle sent the turrets tumbling down to the ground long before their sensors managed to locate and attack her.

Expecting more defenses from a seasoned soldier like Danse, Nora sneaked towards the building, taking a careful look through the paneless window. She breathed a sigh of relief when all she found there were remnants of an old protectron on the concrete floor, a rickety desk, and a terminal guarding an elevator door. With her rifle at the ready, she stepped inside and, after just a few commands typed in, dealt with the low level security that blocked the mechanism.

Once the dirty white door had opened, she hesitated, and had to take a deep, calming breath before courage found her again. As the wobbly cabin began its descent into the underground facility, Nora realized that she had no fucking idea what to say to Danse. Any sort of platitude or consolation would be an insult, considering his situation. Any false promises of brighter future would be a cruelty. She had nothing to offer him except her worthless friendship... if he was still interested in keeping it after she so utterly failed to recognize his struggle during the Glowing Sea mission.

A raspy ding interrupted her thoughts, followed by a deafening rattle of rapid gunfire. The assault caught her unprepared the moment the door slid open, and a single bullet ripped right through her arm, mercifully missing the bone and arteries, and lodging itself in the wall behind her.

Dropping to a crouch, Nora bit her lip to focus through the pain and, once her vision cleared, she managed to locate two more turrets on the opposite wall. Shooting them down was the easy part, for now she had two protectrons charging at her and no time to think of a proper strategy. With no other options available, she ducked and tumbled between the two clumsy machines, pulled up her pip-boy's interface and, by sheer luck, managed to activate the override alliance parameters protocol before they could get to her again. When the robots acknowledged her as a friend and switched into patrol mode, Nora slumped to the ground with a relieved groan.

"Danse, I'm so gonna fucking punch you for that, you hear me?"

There was no answer. Muttering a curse, she looked around the spacious room. Several sets of old, pre-war radio equipment were the only furniture, but a window in the wall promised another, smaller area right behind the wall. Unfortunately, she couldn't see much through the dirty panes, and the only door there was buried under tons of rocky rubble from the partially collapsed ceiling. A large hole in the other wall looked promising, however, and indeed, there was a passage there, leading to what must once have been a supervisor's office.

"Danse?"

Once more only silence answered her. She tossed a frantic look around for any signs of his presence there, but all she managed to find was a single holotape left by someone on a console by the wall. It could have been Danse's, but it just as well could have been there since before the war. Doing her best to not let panic take over, Nora loaded up the tape and hit the play button.

_As the minutes tick by and I stare at the walls of this godforsaken place, I'm still trying to cope with the reality that I am a living lie. My identity as Paladin Danse is nothing but a memory now. Everything I held dear, everything I've ever believed in is completely gone. I've spent far too long wondering why this happened to me, but the truth is, it doesn't matter. I am a synth... which means I am a freak of nature, a perversion of science and an example of where mankind has gone wrong. For the benefit of humanity, I need to die. Not because I'm cowardly or despondent, but because it's the human thing to do. This is Danse, former Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, signing off._

"Oh, god... oh, my fucking god, no..." Ignoring the bleeding wound and myriads of glowing dots that began swirling in front of her eyes, Nora rushed for the elevator door. He had to be somewhere out there, perhaps she could get to him in time, perhaps he was... still alive, perhaps there was a slight chance that.... that--

Bright light from the setting sun blinded her when she paused in the doorway, overwhelmed by the vastness of the area she would have to search with absolutely no time left to do it.

"Danse! Victor!" Screaming from the top of her lungs, she clung to hope, calling for him over and over again until her voice broke into a raspy whisper. "Please... oh, please, be alive... please..."

Through the sound of her own pained sobbing, she could not hear footsteps approaching from the side, the noise from a pair of heavy boots muffled by the thick grass.

"Nora?"

Her eyes snapped to him, greedy taking in the shadows under his eyes, unkempt hair, and broad shoulders hunched under the weight of the burden that had been forced upon him.

_Merciless, soulless machine, my ass._

Pushing off the wall she was leaning against, Nora threw herself at the man. He was too big for a full embrace, her arms not long enough, not strong enough to keep him safe, to keep him together... but she tried anyway, despite the dull pain radiating from the wound, and despite the man's weak protest.

"You fucking bastard," she grumbled into his chest once she felt him carefully return her furious hug. "I found your tape, you scared the shit out of me, I thought I had lost you, I thought I'd never see you again, I... I should punch that stupid face of yours for that."

Danse let her talk, resting his unshaven chin on the top of her head, guiltily enjoying the warmth of her skin and the ferocity of the scolding she was giving him. It was only a brief respite, short delay of the inevitable, he was well aware of that, but in that one moment stolen out of time, he wasn't so painfully alone anymore. Nora's fierce presence made everything bearable, even death.

"I wanted to see the sunset before-- one last time," he offered in a soft whisper when she went silent, content with just holding herself close to him. "Hear the wind in the trees. There was never the right time for... just enjoying the world. I wanted to try."

Nora took a small step away to look up into his eyes. "Danse, if you for one damned second think that I am going to let you murder yourself for the sake of the Brotherhood's fucking stupid rules, then you are an idiot."

He shook his head at that. "There is no choice to make here. Maxson sent you to eliminate me and I'll be damned if I'm going to stand in your way. It's the right thing to do."

"Do you even hear yourself? Since when killing a good, loyal, and brave man is the fucking right thing to do?"

"I am not a man, Nora. I am a synth. A machine. An abomination."

"Yeah, yeah. So you have a couple of wires somewhere inside you. Big fucking deal. You bleed like me, you sweat like me, you almost snore louder than me, and when you smile I feel like all my fucking troubles just disappear. Do you really think I give a damn whether you are a synth or a human? You are my friend. That's all that matters."

"No," he protested, freeing himself from her arms to step inside the bunker. "I wish Maxson had sent someone else, and I know how difficult it must be for you, but if you disobey your orders, you are not only betraying Maxson, but also everything the Brotherhood stands for."

"Like I give a damn." Snorting, she rushed after him and blocked the way to the elevator before he could step into it. "So you're telling me that I should choose the Brotherhood over you? That I should put a bullet in your head, go back to the Prydwen and accept a round of applause for the job well done? Are you out of your fucking mind, Victor?"

"Synths can't be trusted," he recited. "Machines should never be allowed to make their own decisions. They need to be controlled or the world will find itself on the brink of destruction again. That's why I need to be the example here, not the exception. And I've made my decision. I am ready to accept the consequences of what I am."

Nora narrowed her eyes to angry slits. "Well, that's all fine and dandy, you selfish bastard, but I am not fucking ready to lose you, all right? You're like a family to me, and I'm not ready to learn how this shitty, dirty, piss-poor excuse of a world is going to be without you in it. I will never be ready for that, you hear me? Never. So why don't you pull your head out of your shapely ass and think about _that_ for a while, hmm?"

Danse stared, his eyes opening wider and wider as her words sank in. "I... am sorry. I should have considered how my death would affect other people. But I never thought that..."

"What? That someone would actually care if you disappeared? God, you can be such a dummy sometimes... Yeah I would care, damnit. Haylen would care. And Ingram had tears in her eyes when she found out. There's plenty of people who genuinely like and respect you, even if some of them won't be able to show that now because of the Brotherhood's rules. Fuck those, though. I'd never choose Maxson's merry band of warmongers over you, not... ever... I--"

She swayed a little, instinctively reaching for the injured arm. Danse followed her movement, and gasped when he finally noticed the dark stain of blood soaking her black uniform.

"One of the turrets got me," she explained at the unspoken question in his worried eyes. "My fault, I wasn't paying attention. Clean shot, though, I'll be fine."

With a frown, he gently pushed her inside the elevator's cabin. Downstairs, he seated her in the only chair available and pulled a duffel bag from behind one of the consoles. Within moments he disinfected and bandaged the wound, and stabbed a stimpak's needle right next to it. "I hurt you," he said at last, refusing to look up from his own hands, now stained with her blood.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Nora groaned. "A fucking turret hurt me, not you. What you did was ease my pain, actually. And, as I told you before, it was my fault. If you weren't so... distracted right now, you'd be scolding the shit out of me for sloppy battle tactics."

That brought a faint shadow of a smile to his lips. "Thank you."

"Welcome. So... can I please stop worrying now about losing you?"

He offered her a solemn nod. "Yes. Here, take my holotags, bring them to Maxson as proof that you obeyed his order. I'll... try to get as far from the commonwealth as possible in the meantime. Maybe go back to Rivet City... if I've ever been there at all... maybe it's all just fake memories... maybe--"

"Danse. Stop that. It was real, just as your friendship with Cutler was real."

"How can you be so sure? I am a machine. All that I am is just... code. Something loaded up into my mind by a real human."

"Do you know what makes us human? Empathy. Loyalty. Understanding. Courage. Honor. Full spectrum of emotions." Reaching for his hand, she laced their fingers together and squeezed lightly. "I remember that day you told me about Cutler. I remember the warmth in your eyes when you shared stories from the time you two spent together. And I remember the pain that flashed across your face when you told me about his fate. That was a human telling me about the most traumatic experience of his life. About the loss and suffering it had brought with it. About the consequences suffered ever since. So don't tell me any fucking crap about you being a robot or, I swear to god, I will kick your ass. You are a human, Danse. More so than most of the people I know in this world. Also, if you don't hug me right now I am going to start crying and we don't want that."

Danse did as he was asked, pulling her against his broad chest and tucking her head under his chin in what he had realized was just the perfect fit for the two of them. He could feel her arms wrap around his waist, squeezing him as tight as her barely healed injury had allowed her to, and he could feel overwhelming gratitude for her words. Perhaps there was some hope in all the misery after all, some purpose for him to serve other than whatever the Institute had created him for. Perhaps--

"You know what I'm gonna do?" Nora mumbled, her cheek still pressed against his sternum. "I'm gonna take your tags, add mine to them, and slam both on Maxson's desk, like in a goddamn cop movie. And then we'll go to Rivet City. I have some caps set aside, we can open a small gun shop there. Make mods, sell them to people. We're damn good at that."

"I've never had the privilege of seeing an actual movie, but I do like that plan," he replied, stretching his lips in a warm, if slightly rigid, smile.

She pulled back a little to shoot him a toothy grin. "We'll find you a fucking movie to watch." A chuckle escaped her once she realized what had just tumbled out of her mouth. "No, wait, not _that_ kind of movie. Something nice and non violent, maybe a romantic comedy with a happy ending. I'm damn sure _some_ reels had to survive somewhere. But right now, I better get going. I want to have this behind me... well, behind us, really. The sooner we free ourselves from the Brotherhood's chains, the better."

Danse dropped onto the chair she had just vacated, his face grim. "I am sorry I did not manage to show you the Brotherhood for what it really is. A group of extraordinary people determined to make the world a safe place for everyone..."

Backtracking from the hole in the wall that led to the passage, Nora crouched by the man's side. "Safe by murdering anyone and anything out of what they consider to be the acceptable norm? Please. The basic idea behind the Brotherhood's mission is noble, I can agree with that much, but the execution of that idea? The fucking leadership? A monumental failure. Intimidation, bullying, and threats of violence are not the way to bring peace and stability into the world. That's how dictatorships are born, Victor, and Maxson is on a very short fucking track towards that."

"I know you hate him and disagree with his methods," Danse admitted after a moment he needed to find the right words. "I also know he is not... perfect. There are some things I would have done... differently, things I'd change, and we used to talk about them, sometimes, Maxson and I."

"Used to?"

He nodded and looked away. "We had an argument about squires once. It was short after... after Cutler. I was slightly intoxicated that evening, and I told Maxson that a child's place was not on the battlefield. That we should educate them on history and culture before we teach them how to fight, so they know the mistakes humankind had made and do not repeat them. He disagreed and explained that training them at such a young age we are giving them a better chance for survival. Better fighting instincts. I... lost a little bit of control then. I raised my voice, because even though I knew he was right, it still seemed fundamentally wrong to me. He dismissed me to my quarters after that, even though he should have ordered a disciplinary action against me for my drunken behavior. I-- never really dared to approach him again with my suggestions after that. I squandered that privilege."

"Did he ever actually use any of your suggestions, Victor? Or was he just letting you vent, and then doing everything his own way?" Nora waited patiently, but when he refused to reply, she stood up with one last pat on his knee. "Thought so. Anyway, I'll be back in a couple of days. I'm going to stop at Taffington and have the Minutemen there deliver you some food and basic supplies, so try not to shoot them when they show up, all right? You're going to need a mattress and some blankets, I won't have you sleep in this goddamn chair."

"You shouldn't trouble anyone on my behalf. I'll get by, it's my fault I'm so... unprepared. I just never really planned on... staying around for long enough to need any sleep."

"And thank all the gods for the change in that plan," she interrupted him the moment the haunted look had returned to his eyes. "Victor, promise me you will be here when I get back. Please, promise me on whatever you hold most dear that I won't find an empty bunker and another fucking holotape instead of you. Please."

"I promise... I don't want to hurt you again. Or anyone else."

"Thank you." It was a start... not as good as him wanting to live because his life was worth living, but they would get to that. Eventually. Step by little step, together. She would be his rock, and she would show him that yes, there was Brotherhood and then there was everything else, but said _everything else_ could be amazing and worth fighting for as well. "Now why don't you move your ass and come with me to the surface? There are turret pieces to gather up there and maybe you can tinker at last one back into working condition while I'm away, just in case."

"Keeping me busy? Good idea."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never underestimate the power of hugs. EVER.


	23. Lawyer Unleashed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you all thought this story was abandoned, hmm? Well, it was. Fandom drama, angry people spamming vicious anonymous comments, nice people hardly leaving any comments at all... it took its toll on my creativity. Writers thrive on feedback, after all. The good kind of it, that is. If I see the view count on every single chapter go up, but no one bothers to so much as leave a single line of comment, then what's the point in sharing my stories at all? Might as well write it just for me and keep it safely in a drawer where no haters will come to ruin my day.
> 
> This chapter was also the hardest part of the story to write and do my versions of these characters justice, pardon the pun. I really wanted for this scene to make some actual sense, Maxson's words and ultimate giving up on killing Danse especially, because in-game it was all very... forced and rushed. I dare say I managed that pretty damn well, so here it is: Blind Betrayal's conclusion. And let's hope it will be less than 8 months before I update again.

* * *

**[20:50, JUNE 20th, 2278]**

 

The first thing they heard once the elevator's door opened upstairs was the noise of a vertibird's rotors. Danse reached for his weapon, only to realize he had left it downstairs. Muttering a curse, he turned to Nora. She already had the sniper rifle in her hands, and took the lead, making him stay hidden behind. After a quick peek through the window, she stepped back with a wince.

"Maxson," she mouthed to the paladin. Gesturing for him to take the elevator back downstairs, Nora took a deep breath and left the outpost's building. "Spying on me, _sir_?"

The Elder glared. "I hope you didn't expect me to actually trust you on this mission."

"I did not. Just curious how the fuck did you manage to find me here."

"You'll have to thank scribe Haylen for that." He made a dramatic pause to toss her a triumphant look.

Nora felt her knees go weak, but steeled herself and aimed the rifle at his head. "What have you done to her, you bastard? I swear, if you hurt her I'm gonna rip you fucking apart!"

"Spare me the empty threats, Davenport. You know good and well that I have a lancer and three armored paladins up there by the vertibird. They may not see us in this darkness, but if I don't return, they will come and deal with you accordingly."

"I don't fucking care! What have you done to Haylen?"

Letting out a sigh, Maxson began pacing. "Nothing, actually. Despite her confidence wavering sometimes, she remains a loyal soldier of the Brotherhood. All I had to do was ask... let's say: nicely. And persistently."

"And... she just... told you?"

"Of course she did. Are you really so surprised? I'm the Elder and I had good arguments. Nobody wants synths to take over the world, after all." Taking a peek over Nora's shoulder, he made a face and gestured towards the building. "Speaking of... you can tell him... no, _it_ to come out, I know it's hiding there."

Danse did not wait for Nora's reaction. With his head high, he stepped outside. The moment he approached them, Maxson drew a 10mm and pressed the muzzle to the synth's forehead.

"I refused to believe when Quinlan reported to me about his findings. He had solid evidence and I still made him go look for more. When he came back, I sent him away to check everything again, then again, and again..." His voice faltered as the hand holding the pistol's grip trembled. "And when I couldn't pretend any longer, I wanted to kill you with my bare hands for betraying me... the Brotherhood. For being a lying, spying snake that managed to get so close, to make me trust you and your judgment, to--"

With a furious roar, he pulled back, let the gun fall to the ground with a sad clatter, and slammed his fist against Danse's chin. The paladin staggered, but held his balance, never taking his eyes off the Elder. Just like a puppy that still adores the master who kicks it.

Nora watched the scene with understanding slowly making its way into her mind. There they were - a young and idealistic Elder, and an experienced perfect soldier under his command. One leading, the other guiding. One subconsciously seeking a role model to follow, the other becoming just that by being the embodiment of everything the other sought to achieve. Up until Cutler, that is, up until that first drunk stain had marred that perfection...

Was that the reason Maxson kept lashing out at Danse? Sending him alone against the courser, using him as a leverage against Nora's insubordination, treating him like a commodity to trade for her cooperation? Was all this mess just a boy throwing a tantrum because his father suddenly fell from the pedestal and turned out to be nothing more than a flawed... well... human?

When Nora looked at Maxson again, she found no more hatred in herself for the man. She found something much, much worse. Pity.

"Danse lives and breathes Brotherhood, he's probably the most damn loyal soldier you have ever had," she offered, lowering her weapon and taking place by the synth's side. "Why would you want to get rid of him just because he has a piece of tech somewhere inside him? It's counter-intuitive for you as the Elder to remove your best asset like that."

"Because he is dangerous!" Maxson growled, pointing an accusatory finger at the paladin. "He's a ticking bomb just waiting for an order from the Institute to go off and destroy whatever is left of this world. They've done it once, they'll do it again, and he... _it_... and all of its kind are their tools to make it happen."

"No," she countered simply, raising a hand when Danse tried to speak. "He is the one exception you should make, Maxson. And not because of sentiment, not even because of his perfect record thus far, but because he stayed loyal to you even after he found out about his origins. In fact, he's so fucking loyal, he was about to put a bullet in his own head because the Brotherhood taught him that was the right thing to do."

"And, of course, you stopped him." The Elder did not bother to hide the venom in his voice. Large hands still balled into fists, he was boiling inside, deaf to any logical arguments.

Nora inhaled sharply and let the air out through her nose to calm down. "Stop being a hysterical child and listen to what I am trying to tell you. Fucking listen for damn once when I say you have a creation of the Institute here who realizes just how fucking wrong and evil his makers are. You have a weapon that is willing to turn around and shoot the aggressor who holds it because it refuses to condone his actions. Can't you see that you will never have a more loyal and dedicated soldier than him? Can't you fucking see that he is your most valuable asset now even more than before? He's the living, breathing proof that you are right fighting the Institute and he will gladly help you destroy them."

"No. It's not really alive, it just... works. And it _will_ betray me. Already has."

It took Nora a moment to contain a laugh so she could speak again. "Seriously? And everyone claims _you_ are the master strategist? Come on, _think_! If he was indeed planted in the Brotherhood to destroy you from within, it wouldn't make any fucking sense for him to stay loyal after he was discovered! He wouldn't run away to kill himself, he would blow up the Prydwen and everyone on it instead to complete his mission. Fuck, man, use your brain, let a sliver of reason break through all that brainwashing for once... please."

The Elder would have none of that. "He's not human, therefore he can't ever be trusted. He's a machine that was put together in a cold lab, he has not come out of a mother's loving womb, he's an abomination and needs to be destroyed."

With a soft, broken sigh, Danse stepped forward, wiping the blood from the lip split by Maxson's fist. "It's all right, Nora. You did your best, but I accept my fate, I'm ready to--"

"Thanks for proving my point here, Danse, but I'm your lawyer now, so shut up." Turning back to Maxson, she put herself firmly in his personal space, her face twisted in a pained grimace. "Let me tell you something about wombs and abominations, young man, since you clearly have no fucking idea how this whole humanity thing works. Being a human is not about which hole you crawled out of onto this world, it's about what you do to make said world a better place. Your way to achieve that is to put an end to the Institute before they can destroy what's left of mankind after the last apocalypse. Yes or no?"

With eyes narrowed to slits, Maxson tilted his head, shifting his gaze to Danse then focusing on her again. "Yes. Obviously."

"Then punish the goddamn leader who stands behind it all! Punish the one who gives the cold-blooded orders to exterminate whole settlements for a piece of tech, the one who allows for experiments on living organisms so he can further his research at all cost, the one who marvels watching people suffer while he takes his fucking notes. Unleash all that righteous anger of yours on the one who lacks both the heart and soul to see just how evil he's become. Do that and spare the simple soldier who was willing to give his life to prove his loyalty to you." Pausing, she took a deep breath to prevent her voice from breaking. "Don't hate Danse for something he had no control over, hate the ruthless bastard who made him what he is... the bastard whose name is Shaun Davenport and who, I assure you, is a natural born one hundred percent human who came out the very womb that stands before you right now."

Wide-eyed, Maxson took a step back from her, raw emotions flashing across his features as he processed the information she had just thrown at him. Danse made a tiny step closer to her, one arm reached out to offer comfort, but retreated as she held her chin high, glaring at the Elder in a silent challenge.

"Logistics of this being the truth aside, you would give up your son for... this thing?" The Elder found his voice at last.

"Cryogenic stasis can really mess up one's timeline, trust me on that." Nora huffed a cheerless laugh. "And to answer your question: why wouldn't I? This "thing" has risked his life to protect mine. This "thing" has never, ever, treated me with disrespect. This "thing" has never used me as a means to an end. This "thing" is more human than just about everyone I have ever met, my own flesh and blood son included."

Shaking his head, Maxson reached into his pocket for a battered pack of Tortoises. He took his time fishing a cig out and lighting it, then took a long drag and held it in for much longer than was in any way comfortable. When, at last, he looked directly at Nora through the haze of the bluish smoke, she could have sworn there was a hint of a relieved smile stretching the man's lips.

"As far as I'm concerned, he's dead. You've tracked him down, executed him, and the remains were incinerated. If any of my soldiers see him, they will assume it's an identical copy sent by the Institute and he'll be shot on sight." Flipping off the cigarette butt, Maxson picked his pistol up from the grass, aimed it at the soft ground a few paces away, and squeezed out a single shot. While it echoed among the trees, he kept his gaze firmly on the torn soil, then he pocketed the gun. "Farewell, Victor."

With that, the man spun on his heel and marched off towards the landing pad.

Fighting the temptation to raise her rifle and put a plasma bolt in the back of his head, Nora waited for the vertibird to fly up. Only after its light had disappeared in the distance did she allow herself to relax. With a deep sigh, she turned to Danse but, right then, the world spun, making her collapse into a graceless heap... and after all the turmoil, it felt surprisingly good to dive into that darkness and let it close above her head.

When she managed to open her eyes again, she found herself cradled in Danse's arms, pressed protectively against his broad chest while he sat on the floor of the outpost, shielding her from the cold concrete with his own body's warmth.

"Damn, I could stay like this forever," she murmured, pressing an ear to the smooth fabric of his uniform to listen to the steady beat of his heart. Whoever at the Institute had designed that particular part of his body, did a perfect job: the sound was soothing, reassuring and so very real. "I don't want you to catch a cold, though."

A chuckle rumbled deep inside the synth's chest. "I've never been sick in my life. Probably can't get sick, all things considered."

"Well, I'd rather not test that theory." Reluctantly, she untangled herself from his arms to stand on her own two feet. "And it looks like I'm good to go. Your hugs have healing properties, I swear."

"Nora..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm... sorry about your son. I--"

She shook her head. "Please... let's just... let's not talk about this ever again. Please."

"Of course. But... I'm here for you if you ever need... anything."

"I know you are, silly." Reaching out a hand, she helped him up from the floor. "That's why you're so damn awesome, you know." That brought a hint of color to his cheeks and Nora couldn't help a delighted giggle. She ignored his inquiring gaze, however. "So... it looks like we're free to do as we please now... any plans?"

Danse looked around the spartan room. "I think I could turn this into a livable space over time... not exactly where I had planned to spend the rest of my days, but it's strategically located away from any areas where the Brotherhood is most active and it's nearly impenetrable, too, so... why are you laughing?"

"You really think I'm going to let you rot in this cold, sunless bunker? Well, think again, mister. You're stuck with me, and I'm totally gonna... shit... I mean... fuck, that's not how I wanted..." Biting her lip, Nora looked up, her eyes pleading. "I'm such an idiot. What I'm trying to say, is I'll help in any way I can, but it doesn't mean you have to... you are a free man, you don't have to stick with me, if--"

Danse did not let her finish, tugging her close and wrapping his arms around her trembling body. "I would be lost without you," he said simply and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Well, good," Nora muttered, the words immediately followed by a curse. "I mean, not good, but... yeah, same."

"Good."

She snorted a small laugh at that and squeezed him as best she could with her arms not quite able to fully embrace his large figure.

"Still, I gotta go back to the Prydwen one last time. Make my leave official, just like you said: with my head held high, not like a coward. And... I have to make sure Maxson doesn't change his mind."

"There's no need. Arthur is a man of his word. Always has been." Danse pulled back with a stern look. "Besides... how could you possibly achieve that?"

"Oh, I have some big guns up my sleeve, never worry."

 

* * *

**[10:14, JUNE 21st, 2278]**

 

"No, Maxson, I will not be a part of your Brotherhood any longer, hell if I know why you'd even consider keeping me. You know damn good and well that I never fit in, that my personal code of ethics never aligned with yours, and I stayed only because you gave me no damn choice." Nora refused the offered seat, instead standing at attention in the cramped space of the Elder's personal quarters and looking down at the man slouching in his chair. "Still, I have done my duty and you got what you wanted from that holotape I recorded there for Ingram. I may have failed my teleport mission, but you did get the exact location of the Institute out of it, and you sure as fuck don't need me to help you do whatever you wish with that knowledge."

He eyed her for a while, brows drawn together to form a rather impressive scowl. "Why are you even here, then?"

"Because I want to do this by the books, like _he_ has taught me." Nora placed her own holotags next to Danse's on the spotless, perfectly organized desk in front of her. "I've already deposited all my weapons, power armor, mods, uniforms and everything else I ever received from the Brotherhood. Teagan will confirm, if needed."

"I could make you stay, you know. Force you to go with me to the institute, fight your son, prove that you really meant what you said about choosing Danse over him."

She raised an eyebrow. "You can't possibly try to blackmail me with Haylen now. Not after she so eagerly sent you after me. I understand why she did that and I bear her no ill will, if anything, I can respect such loyalty in a soldier, but as far as our friendship goes... it's done and gone."

Maxson poured himself a glass of whiskey and took a small sip. Then another one. And, if the bloodshot eyes were anything to go by, it wasn't his first glass that morning.

"I could still send a squad to clear out that bunker tonight. Or tomorrow. Any day I could dedicate a whole unit to just combing the Commonwealth for Danse's "synth lookalikes". I could--"

"Oh, no, you fucking couldn't," Nora interrupted him with a finger raised in a warning. "Now listen to me, boy. Take your precious angst and hurt pride and shove them both up your ass. Deep. And grow the fuck up. Be a man, at last; you have good people here who believe in you, don't fail them like you have failed Danse. Be the leader they deserve instead of focusing on petty revenge. Take that as a friendly advice, free of charge. And if I see a vertibird anywhere near Sanctuary Hills, if I see your soldiers harassing my people, asking around for Danse or myself, then - as the general of the Minutemen - I swear, I will wipe you and your fancy blimp off the face of the Earth. I have heavy artillery in every single one of my settlements and, just so you know, every single one of those guns is aimed at this airport. If you so much as fart in Danse's general direction, there will be no Brotherhood presence in the Commonwealth anymore. None. Do we understand each other, _sir_?"

"Perfectly." To her surprise, Maxson stood up and reached out a hand to her. "It took you a while, but you have just earned my respect, _General_. You have my word that you and... _that thing_ are safe as long as you keep your distance from my troops."

Nora took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "I can work with that, _Elder_."

 

* * *

 


	24. Closing Statement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who reads and takes a moment of their time to leave a comment on this story. You are the sole reason I keep getting myself together and work through sometimes crippling depression to keep this story going.
> 
> A comment from the reader is the only reward a fanfic author gets for writing and sharing their stories with the community for absolutely free. It's also what motivates us to keep being creative. It often takes weeks of work to write a single chapter, make sure it's the best we can make it before we offer it to you. And it hurts so damn much when we can see that it was read by dozens - or even hundreds - of people, but left without any kind of reaction. So I implore you: leave feedback. Don't just consume content and move on, give something back in exchange. Help this community thrive by being an active part of it. 
> 
> And accept my heartfelt thank you, if you do.

* * *

  **[12:33, JUNE 21st, 2278]**

 

The metal door to the Prydwen's command deck closed behind her with a screech of rusty hinges, but even that sound seemed cheerful somehow. Nora took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. High above the airport, so close to the open sea, the air was cool and refreshing. Just perfect. Smiling a little to herself, feeling free like she had never felt before, she nodded to the faceless power armor on guard duty and marched along the walkway. Ahead of her, a shuttle vertibird had just arrived bringing in a small group of soldiers, fresh from what looked like a successful scavenge mission.

Before she could hop on for a ride down to the ground, a familiar flash of fiery hair caught her eye when one of the scribes removed her helmet and let her long ponytail free. Picking up the pace, Nora rushed past the vertibird, heading for the ship's stern. There was a chance she could just wait there unnoticed until the group went inside to write their reports. A very small chance, as it turned out.

"Nora!" Haylen called after her just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief. "May I talk to you for a while?"

"Hello, _scribe_." Nora took her sweet time to face the other woman. "Looks like there's no avoiding this, so yeah, let's just get this over with."

Twisting the leather helmet in her hands, Haylen kept her eyes down. "I... is it true that you... that Paladin Danse--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, at least have the balls to say it like it is. I'm sure Maxson bragged about it the moment he returned, so yes, the synth known as Paladin Danse has been destroyed. All thanks to you. I bet my ass you'll get a promotion or something."

"It's not how I wanted this to be! I--" She shook her head and finally looked up. "Did you talk to him before-- did he..."

Nora rolled her eyes. "As you very well know, the Elder came over to _graciously_ offer his support," she rattled off in her most unpleasant courtroom voice, "so the execution has been immediately carried out under his supervision."

That turned out to not be the reaction Haylen had expected. "Why are you so calm? Did you not care at all? Nora, I really hoped you'd have enough time to--"

"To fucking do what? What could I have possibly accomplished in that short time you gave me before you sicced Maxson on me, hmm? Before you switched, oh so easily, from _he deserves a chance_ into _do what must be done?_ All your words, Jane, right there!"

"It's not like that! I really hoped that... but I couldn't risk the integrity of the Brotherhood, could I? One exception, one deviation is all it takes for the corruption to spread, for the world to crumble all over again. For the greater good, we need to stick to the rules to save lives, even if it means terrible sacrifices! I--"

"You keep telling yourself that." Not without some twisted satisfaction, Nora watched as tears welled in her former friend's eyes. "One day it may actually become enough to let you sleep peacefully."

"I'm so sorry..."

"Yeah, well, there's no Danse around anymore to hug it out with you this time, but his ashes should still be there if the wind hasn't blown them all away yet."

Covering her mouth with a hand, Haylen backed away from her.

"I didn't know you could be so... cruel, Nora."

"And I didn't know you could be so fickle, Jane. Good day to you, and let's hope we never meet again."

All traces of her cheer gone, Nora watched as Haylen dragged her feet towards the stairs. Taking her small, petty revenge on the other woman felt... good, even if it did leave a foul taste in her mouth.

"Knight Davenport!"

A pair of spindly arms wrapped around her waist from behind and squeezed in a surprisingly strong hug. Nora couldn't help a chuckle.

"Hey, Harper, long time no see."

She turned around and immediately got assaulted by his big, sad baby blue eyes.  

"You're leaving, aren't you? For good?"

"Yes, I am. This has never been a good place for me. And if you don't let me go, I'm afraid you're going to squeeze the life out of me."

He muttered an apology, hastily dropping his arms and letting them hang limply at his sides.

"Then I'm glad we met here, because... there was a ship-wide announcement... about Paladin Danse and I wanted to tell you... it's not right what you were forced to do. Not right. I don't care if he was a synth or not, he was your friend. And a hero to me. He killed a courser! He was the bravest. And I want to be like him so much... other initiates spit and hiss when his name is mentioned now, but not me. I couldn't just... as if he never existed, as if he wasn't one of us, as if-- as if-- I..."

Ignoring curious looks from the maintenance crew roaming around the deck, Nora pulled Harper into her arms. She held him close while he wept on her shoulder, small shudders running across his body whenever he exhaled. Feeling bitter, stinging tears in her own eyes, she reached up to caress the boy's scalp and ran her fingers along the blonde stubble there.

"Oh, Harper, you walking menace, you..." Stopping before her voice could break, she took another deep breath of the cool morning air. It brought no relief this time.

It took a few more minutes before Harper stirred in her arms and pulled away with a sigh.

"I'm sad that you are leaving," he admitted, looking deep into her eyes, unashamed of his tears. "And I'm sorry about my... about all my stupid... _flirting_. You deserve respect, not... _that_. You have always been the only one to talk to me like I'm... like I'm actually someone. Not just a kid to order around, but me, Josh Harper. You're the best friend I have ever had, ma'am."

"Don't you _ma'am_ me, boy." She raised a finger and waggled it as a warning in front of his freckled nose until he smiled. "For you, I'm Nora, all right? Now listen to me very carefully. If you ever... feel like all this soldiering is too much for you to bear, I'll be up North, in a settlement called Sanctuary. That's where I was living before the war, you know? There will always be a place for you among my people there. Just ask around about the General, someone will show you the way."

He blinked owlishly at her.

"G-- general?"

"Yup," Nora confirmed with a cheeky wink. "General of the Minutemen, at your service. I've been neglecting my duties so far, but now that I'm finally off Maxson's leash, I intend to get serious about it. I want to help people. Make the Commonwealth a better place. For all the settlers, and... for Danse. Because he always naively believed that was the Brotherhood's ultimate goal here."

Head tilted and mouth slightly open, Harper did not bother to hide his awe. "You are so full of surprises, ma-- Nora."

That made her laugh out loud. "You have no idea, my boy. You have no idea." Looking over his shoulder to glare at a nosy mechanic pretending to work on something right next to them, she noticed Haylen still standing at the top of the stairs. The scribe was clutching the railing and staring down at them with a puzzled expression. "Fuck. It looks like your Scribe supervisor is waiting for you... and watching us like a damned hawk. I'd rather you didn't get in trouble here on my behalf, so..."

Harper nodded and wiped his eyes with a fist.

"I don't suppose you'll ever want to come back here to just visit me, so I guess... I guess this is a goodbye, then." He sniffled loudly. "I will never forget you. Never! And I will never forget Paladin Danse. And please be careful out there, all right? I'd be very sad if anything bad happened to you."

"I'll be good, promise. And you... keep an open mind, Harper. Don't let them brainwash you. Stay your pure precious yourself, no matter what, all right?"

"I will, ma'am. I swear."

With a fond shake of her head, Nora tiptoed to press a motherly kiss on the young man's forehead and gently pushed him towards Haylen. "Now shoo before you make me cry again, you menace."

 

* * *

  **[16:07, JUNE 22nd, 2278]**

 

If not for the gentle wind in the remnants of the trees along the road, the afternoon silence would be almost deafening. Out of habit, Nora kept looking around, expecting danger behind every boulder and every rusty car, but thus far their trip had been blissfully uneventful. Something prevented her from enjoying the peace and quiet, though, and when it finally hit her what that was, she felt shame that it took her so long to figure it out. In a few hasty steps, she caught up with the former Paladin and elbowed his side, breaking him out of his own thoughts.

"Hey... you ok?"

Danse stopped to look down at her.

"Affirmative. Just... not used to being out in the open without a suit of power armor. I feel--"

"Naked?"

He mulled over the word. "Yes."

When he moved on without elaborating, Nora followed and hooked her arm with his, not letting him go despite his mute, if weak, protest that she was hampering his movement in case of an attack.

"Well, it was your idea to give everything back once we left the Brotherhood," she teased. "Not that I disagree, mind you, let Maxson choke on it for all I care, but... yeah. It was sad to see all the goodies go. That plasma rifle I finally managed to claw out from Teagan's special reserve was really sweet."

"And I just got a full set of Tesla coils for my T-60's chest piece..."

Was that a hint of a smile in the tone of his voice? Nora snickered.

"Oh, just fucking look at us. Reminiscing about the past like a pair of senile pensioners. Screw it, Victor, you don't need no power armor, I'll protect you."

What she meant as a silly joke - Danse never needed protection from anyone, let alone from a mediocre soldier like her, after all - he accepted it with a serious nod and a flash of gratitude in his eyes. Noticing her surprise at that, he dismissed it with a shrug.

"I do feel pretty damn secure when you got my back."

Grinning wide, Nora bumped her hip against his thigh and led the way. "Rightfully so, I'd say, damnit. Anyway, we're almost there, just need to get though the Raiders in Concord and we're... well, home, I guess."

"I haven't met any Raiders the lat time I passed through here. Haven't you killed the leader of that gang? "

"Sure did. The deathclaw helped a little by ripping him apart, but yeah, mostly my doing. It was ages ago, though, so there's bound to be a new group there to prey on the caravans, especially now that Sanctuary is a well-established trading spot. The Minutemen do cleanups every once in a while, from what Pressy told me, but there's not enough of them to keep watch all the time. Not yet anyway."

"Pressy?" Danse inquired with a raised eyebrow. "You mean Preston Garvey?"

"Yup, absolutely pisses him off when I call him that and I love it. Precisely because he is too damn polite to tell me to fuck off with that nickname."

"I see." For a while, they walked in silence again, until he looked over his shoulder and shot her a half-offended glare. "You've never given me any nicknames."

"Sure have."

"Oh?"

"Dansey Pants. Tin Can. Daladin Panse. Shiney Ass. And a few more you had the misfortune to actually hear from my filthy mouth."

"Mhm, those. _Bastard_ and _son of a bitch_ among them."

Nora found enough decency in her to feel embarrassed. "Sorry about that."

"No need. Looking back at everything that's happened... I deserved that after--."

She did not let him finish. "And that's where you're fucking wrong. Sure, you are being an ass sometimes due to all that damned brainwashing Maxson and the Institute both have done to you, but you have never deserved an actual insult from me. It's not you, it's me, as they say. I'm the rude bitch here and I was pissed and frustrated pretty much all the time while Maxson had me under his boot... and scared a good deal, too, so I vented on you because I always assumed you were strong enough to take it and just shrug it off."

Danse shrugged. "You were right."

"Was I?"

Sighing, he rubbed his neck. "No, not really."

"You're not made of stone, Victor. No one is."

They stopped at the foot of a small hill and took a moment to look around the serene landscape. Watching her companion's face, Nora noticed him wince when his gaze fixed for the briefest moment on the Prydwen hovering in the distance.

"I wish I was made of stone," he said at last, his voice quiet and words chosen carefully. "All this would be... easier. As a soldier of the Brotherhood, I had clear goals, a routine to fall back on to... now... I'm not quite sure how to live without a... purpose. Without a past. Without anything."

Thinking of what she could possibly say to ease that kind of pain, Nora adjusted the straps of her backpack and rolled her shoulders to let the weight rest more comfortably there.

"Routine, you say... I'm pretty damn sure I managed to fuck up your routine quite thoroughly once I showed up." She smiled when he nodded his silent agreement at that. "And you actually handled it expertly, you know. As for purpose... that's a bigger beast to tackle because it involves a choice, something you're not really used to having. You could just be your own man, see what life's all about. Pick up farming to make a living. Or become a caravan guard if you'd rather not stay in one place. Or... you could join the Minutemen."

She raised a hand to block any protests from him but, to her surprise, none came. He did not speak at all, in fact, so she went on with the speech she had prepared in her head for quite a while.

"I know that they may be just a bunch of unorganized amateurs to you, but they are fierce, loyal and brave, just like you are. After Quincy, people know how fucked up life is without the Minutemen around, so they try twice as hard to not let everything fall apart again, to keep that protection ring up. And they desperately need more experienced leaders like you to be fully effective, you said so yourself. One Ronnie Shaw sure ain't enough, bossy fucker though she is."

With his eyes narrowed to slits and a muscle twitching in his cheek, Danse turned his back at the city looming in the distance. "I know not who Ronnie Shaw is, but you _are_ an experienced soldier now and you _would_ make a good leader, Nora. You're a fine strategist. You have a unique aptitude for quick battleground assessment. Whenever things take a turn during a fight, you keep your calm and have effective countermeasures ready and employed within moments. It's a rare gift."

That took her by surprise. "Bullshit," she deflected. "I just stumble my way ahead behind you, making it all up as I go. Besides, I've been away pretty much all the time while the Minutemen were re-forming. And I don't exactly inspire people to greatness. You, on the other hand... you always protect those under your command. Fiercely, I might add. You know battle, you know how to make the best use of scarce resources, how to survive just about anything, how to--"

"And I'm a synth."

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Does it negate any of your qualities? Fuck, no! You're still the same Danse you were a month ago, for fuck's sake. Exactly damn same, down to the damned hairs in your nose."

After a moment of confusion her words had brought, Danse let out a hearty chuckle. "Is the inside of my nose that much of an important feature to warrant a mention here?"

"Sure is ever since I got a damn good look up close at that forest there." She stuck her tongue out at him. It was silly and childish, but oh so worth it to see the amused twinkle in his eyes again. "That, and your heartbeat," she added after a moment, in a much more serious tone. "Most soothing sound I have ever heard. When I woke up in your arms, down in that bunker, it was the first time I felt perfectly safe since Maxson started blackmailing me..."

"I'm glad I was able to-- wait... he was blackmailing you? How? With what? And why didn't you tell me?"

The moment was gone and Nora let out a growl, mad at herself for the slip of her tongue. "He used you, of course. And Haylen. And Harper. Though he knew damn good and well you were the only bargaining chip that mattered. Once he realized I wasn't as keen on getting into the Institute as he wanted me to be, he decided to demand rather than suggest. Had I failed... he'd make sure you took all the blame and punishment for my blunder. He threatened to demote you, restrict your PA access, make you scrub the deck so everyone could mock you... even went as far as promising to false-accuse me of being an Institute spy with you as my accomplice. Heh. Funny how _that_ turned out in the end."

Danse clenched his fingers. "He wouldn't really do any of that."

"Perhaps." Swallowing hard, Nora refused to look him in the eyes. "But I absolutely did believe him back then. Now I'm not so sure... but still, I would never take any risks at your expense, Danse. Ever. So I just--"

"No." He kicked a stone off the road, so hard, she could not see where it landed. "I can't believe he could have sunk so low to get what he needed from you."

She groaned. "This... this is exactly why I didn't tell you. That fucking incredulity of yours when it comes to that asshole's flaws! Fucking hell, I'm not lying to you, Victor!"

Spinning on his heel to face her, he shot her a wild look. "I apologize. I did not mean to imply that you were. I just always assumed that Arthur was first and foremost a man of honor. I suppose I simply wasn't ready to-- to admit that he--"

This was too damn fucking much. Dropping the backpack to the ground right where she stood, Nora slumped onto it and buried her face in hands. First she had to witness a man-child fall apart after his father figure turned out to not be perfection incarnate... and now, the very same father figure was beginning to see cracks in the immaculate marble of the statue he worshipped. And there she was, caught in the middle, wishing she could just will one of them out of existence so the other could know some peace at last. Alas, this was not what Danse needed at the very moment and she would be damned if she refused him support while his world kept crumbling apart into smaller and smaller pieces.

"All right, I can't believe I am attempting to excuse the bearded bastard, but... he is a leader with despotic tendencies and a very... singular mind. He has a mission he genuinely believes in - which is his only redeeming quality here, by the way - and, considering how determined he is to succeed, how much of a savior complex he has... his actions are... understandable. _In a way_. They're not right, by any fucking stretch of imagination, but... yeah."

Danse stopped looming over her and took a step back for a better look at her curled up figure. "Thank you," he offered in a solemn voice.

Nora shook her head. "He's the one that should be thanking me."

"He is. He should give you my place in the ranks."

"Oh, for f-- how many times must I tell you that am not Brotherhood material? I absolutely suck at being an obedient soldier, you know that best. And I'm sorry if it hurts you, but I despise most of what they stand for. And... I always find an excuse to let abominations live, don't forget."

"No, I could never forget that one. It's... your best quality, Nora. I know that now."

That made her jump to her feet and shove him with all the might she could muster... which did not even make him stagger, but it did make her feel a tiny bit better. "You are NOT an abomination, you stupid fuck! Say shit like that again and I swear to all the fucking gods out there I'll add my own bruise to the one you are already carrying from Maxson's fist."

For a few moments, he just watched her standing there, her fists clenched, eyes slitted, chapped lips parted taking in furious gasps. Then he simply opened his arms and she fell right into them, sobbing into the flannel shirt he wore. The only flannel shirt the settlers at Taffington had that was big enough for him.

"What am I, then, Nora? Tell me, because I do not know anymore."

"You are a human that carries a synth component somewhere inside him," she mumbled into his chest. "You are also my friend... no, fuck that, you are much, much more than just some stupid friend. You are family, a part of me... no, a huge and important part of my whole damn world. Fuck, I dunno how to say it. And for now, you are Danse, but you _will_ be Paladin Danse again, even if I have to fist fight Preston fucking Garvey for it."

"Garvey? What does he--"

"I'm the fucking General, yes? So I'm the boss. And I say you can be the Paladin of the Minutemen. Protector of the Commonwealth. I mean... shit, there I go again, deciding for you. I mean... if you want, that is."

He smiled, resting his chin on the top of her head where it seemed to belong. "I think I'd like that."

 

* * *

 


	25. Epilogue

* * *

  **[22:34, JULY 28th, 2278]**

 

A knock on the door only barely made it through the sound of raindrops tinkling against the metal roof, but Danse woke up instantly. For a moment, he listened in the darkness, almost certain that he was just dreaming... until he heard it again. Shy and soft, more a scrape of knuckles against the wood than a proper knock. Rubbing his eyes, he padded over to the door and opened it wide, certain that the one in the rain couldn't be an enemy. Not within the safety of the tall Sanctuary's walls he had patrolled himself mere hours before.

In the faint light of a dirty light bulb dangling in the wind outside, Nora stared up at him with her eyes red and puffy. She fidgeted, fingers dug deep into her arms as she cradled a large bottle to her chest.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she croaked. "The guards told me you've only just finished your watch, but I... shit... can I come in?"

Blinking the rest of sleepy blurriness away, Danse stepped aside. "It's your house, no need to even knock."

Nora passed by him with a quick nod and headed straight for the threadbare couch by the opposite wall. "You know I don't want to live here... it's your place now, you made repairs, you cleaned up, I--"

The silence stretched, uncomfortable and heavy. Danse winced when a lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating her face with a deathly white glow. "Something happened," he offered, taking a seat by her side, close enough to let their arms touch. He remembered it helped her feel safe. "Tell me."

"Just a bad dream," Nora admitted and rubbed her eye with a fist. The bottle slid down to rest precariously on her lap, forgotten. "Yet another one. And when I wake up, there's only silence and dark, and... there's nothing. And I'm scared shitless of nothing. I can't shoot it, I can't yell at it, and I... I just--"

"Isn't Dogmeat supposed to keep you safe out there? Having him around at all times was the only reason I accepted your idea to move as far as the Red Rocket. If he ran away, I'm--"

She did not let him finish. "He's there. Loyal to the flaw, all the time." Wincing, she laced her fingers and tugged at them. Hard. "Fuck this shit. Thing is... I can't live like that any longer, Danse. I just fucking can't."

He stared at her.

"All right, fine, here it goes." Nora picked the bottle again, but instead of opening it and taking a long swig like she normally would, she placed in on the floor at her feet. "I wanted you to have your freedom back, I wanted so very much to show you what it's like to be the master of your own life, decide what you want to do every morning and do just that... and I stepped aside, because with me around it would be... well... I would always be in the way of that for you. Settling down in the Red Rocked was a damn fine idea, especially after everyone pitched in helping make it livable... heck, it's downright luxurious now, but... but--"

With his eyes fixed on the perfectly clean floorboard he had scrubbed himself that very morning, Danse offered her a single nod. "I have bad dreams too," he began, lifting a hand when she opened her mouth to explain it wasn't exactly about the nightmares for her. "And when I wake up here," he went on, "safe in my new soft bed, in my very own house that you have given me... I always think of the nights on the road then. Because despite the filth, despite cold, enemies and danger, they were better than... this."

It was Nora's turn to stare, with one brow raised and mouth slightly open. "How so?"

"Well... on the road, when thoughts and... memories were becoming unbearable, there was always a sniper rifle that needed urgent tuning, right then and there. Or a piece of armor that had somehow only just malfunctioned. Suddenly there were cards on a makeshift table and I was too busy trying to remember some overly complex rules of a new game to think about... about the past." Refusing to look up, Danse rubbed a muscle in his neck. "Right now... there's no sniper rifle for me to fix. The power armor you and Sturges helped me put together is in pristine condition. There is a deck of cards in one of the kitchen drawers, but... there's no one to tell me about the rules. I am not complaining, don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the opportunity, for this... new life, but everything was supposed to be better... and it isn't because we got separated."

"Damn." Nora sniffled, choking a little on a sob she refused to let out. When the painful lump in her throat had dissipated, she shifted on the couch's cushion to face him. "Paladin Danse of the Commonwealth Minutemen," she began in the most official tone she could muster in her current state. "Would you like to move in with me? Red Rocket is big enough for two people to be comfortable, there's more than enough space for a second bed there. What say you?"

His eyes were serious, despite a wide grin brightening his face. "I say...yes, General."

With a bit of effort, she managed to return the smile without bursting into tears of joy. "Then pack your things, I'm pretty damn sure my rifle's scope is totally fucked up and I absolutely need it fixed. Like... right now."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Holy shit, don't ever call me that again." She shook her head with an exaggerated shudder. "And... we're all equal here, all right? I refuse to acknowledge any stupid rank differences that Preston insists upon, and-- what?"

He tilted his head under her questioning gaze. "Nothing. Just... being with you has made me realize I never want to be alone again."

Nora refused to acknowledge the small, pathetic sound that escaped her throat. Instead, she launched herself straight into his arms and melted into the bear hug he gave her. "You made me cry, you bastard."

"Good tears, though?"

"Best, damn you."

"Good."

 

* * *

  **[06:55, JULY 29th, 2278]**

 

The water started to boil and first bubbles of hot air floated up to the surface of a large, bent pot. Nora poked at the burning coals below it, careful to not let any fall off the concrete slab that kept the fire from the grassy ground. She had breakfast almost ready, mismatched plates, cups and cutlery, all neatly arranged on a table in the Red Rocket's driveway... or porch, as she preferred to call it. With wooden pallets serving as the floor and some ancient patio furniture all around, it wasn't that far from the actual thing.

The morning was cool, but not unpleasant, its misty chill easily chased away by the crackling fire. Filling two tin cups with hot water, Nora carefully added a pinch of tea leaves into each of them. Genuine pre-war Earl Grey. A priceless treasure she had found in a rusty box stuck behind broken kitchen cabinets in her own old house. She remembered the day she bought it, two hundred years ago. And then some. Stupid little details like the shopkeep's toothy smile and the fact that she stepped into a muddy puddle outside the store, soiling her pretty red shoes.

With a shake of her head, she dismissed the memories. They were like cancer, always there, always ready to attack and eat away her strength. Not that day, however. That day had to be perfect, bathed in the warm light of the rising sun, just as she had planned. Inhaling the stale but still pleasant aroma of bergamot, Nora placed the cups next to the plates and returned to the fire. A heavy, cast-iron pan was almost hot enough for the two deathclaw eggs she kept beaten and seasoned in a pot on the side. Tossing a tiny bit of brahmin fat onto the hot iron surface, she let it melt there while she made her way inside the building.

Passing by Dogmeat who acknowledged her with a soft huff, she entered the garage area, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet that covered the entirety of the concrete floor there. With all the holes, stains and threadbare areas cleverly covered by furniture and small, faded rugs, it looked almost brand new. The room itself was dark, with only the shaft of light coming from the door showing her the way, but she managed to make it to the opposite wall without stubbing her toes or making any excessive noises... though Danse's healthy snoring would probably drown any other sounds anyway.

Chuckling at a particularly funny rumble coming out of the synth's throat, Nora pressed the button to roll up the garage's door. The metal curtain slowly lifted, revealing what was once an entire side wall of a greenhouse, re-purposed to become a generous window of the bedroom she now shared with the paladin.

Alarmed by the mechanical noise, Danse sat up in his bed, staring incredulously through the uncovered window panes and at the crooked tree outside. He blinked several times, tilted his head a little, and finally relaxed once his sleepy mind provided him with the information he required to know where he was. With a yawn he did not bother to stifle, he looked to the side, finally noticing Nora as she sat on the edge of her own bed by the other wall, watching him with a wide grin on her face.

"Breakfast will be ready in a moment, sleepyhead," she offered. "I figured your first day in a new home should start with something special so... yeah. Whenever you're ready."

When, exactly five minutes later, he joined her on the porch, Danse was fully dressed in a pair of borrowed, a bit too tight (and more than a bit too short) jeans, and a plaid shirt that still had all the buttons intact by some miracle. His hair was tamed, and a faint smell of alcohol he used to rinse his mouth followed him. When he stepped closer, his eyes went wide at the sight of the table. Covered with spotlessly clean blue cloth, decorated by a merry handful of colorful flowers in a glass jar, it looked strangely out of place in the otherwise colorless surroundings. All the more so when Nora pointed him towards a chair, fully expecting him to actually sit on one of the soft cushions, and then proceeded to load his plate with a generous serving of scrambled egg and... was that a slice of buttered bread? He looked up, speechless.

"What?" Nora asked, halting with the steaming pan in hand, her confidence wavering. "You don't like deathclaw eggs?"

Danse cleared his throat. "I love deathclaw eggs, I simply... can not even remember when was the last time I had a chance to eat some... and..." Confused, he pointed at the mugs. "What is this smell? It's not something I can recognize, very... refreshing."

"That, my dear Victor, is real tea. Earl Grey, to be specific. Finest FTGFOP tea leaves with orange flower petals and bergamot essential oil." She scraped the remaining eggs onto her plate and took her place at the other end of the small, square table. "I just really wanted to treat you with a proper pre-war breakfast... or as close as I could get us to it."

"I am not going to pretend that I understood what the tea is about, but I am sure I will enjoy it," Danse admitted with a smile. "This breakfast, this whole... setting, is the most pleasant surprise, Nora. Thank you."

"You're most welcome. Now get to it, then, before it gets cold."

They ate in companionable silence, broken by an occasional murmur of approval from the paladin, when he took the first mouthful of the eggs, then the first bite of freshly baked bread, and finally, the first sip of the tea. Nora basked in his delight, patting herself on the back for bringing a bit of luxury to his self-imposed plain soldier's life. Then she remembered something and pointed to a small wooden box on the side. "Take a look."

Danse lifted the lid, his eyes once again going wide at the sight of small, white cubes neatly arranged inside. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yep. Sugar. Snatched it from a caravan yesterday morning. Hell if I know where they found it, and pox on them for charging some insane caps for it, but... fuck, it was worth it. Try popping one into your tea. Not everyone likes it that way, but I damn sure do."

He picked one of the cubes and held it up between his thumb and index finger to examine the thing thoroughly. "It doesn't have a smell," he observed after giving it a careful whiff. "This is disappointing. Somehow I always imagined pure sugar would smell like Fancy Lad's Cakes."

"Fancy Lad's have a lot of artificial flavorings in them that give them that strong smell... all that chemistry is probably the only reason they are still edible without killing anyone, but I'll spare you the lesson on healthy eating. It's enough I had to suffer through them over and over from the witch... I mean my mother-in-law."

Before Danse had a chance to respond, a tremor shook the ground, like a shockwave rolling under the surface, rattling the table and toppling over the jar of flowers. Ignoring the water soaking the tablecloth, Nora jumped to her feet, rushing towards the thick hedge on the southern side. With a trembling hand on her mouth, she stared towards the city in the distance where the epicentre seemed to be, shaking her head in mute denial. Having suffered through it once before, her body instinctively knew exactly what was coming and, just as expected, mere seconds later, a flash of intense light easily blinded the rising sun, bathing absolutely everything in painful incandescence.

When it was all over, when the wind from the nuclear explosion rushed over her, mercifully weakened by both depth and distance, Nora collapsed to the ground with an inhuman cry tearing itself from her throat. It took her a moment to realize that Danse had been by her side all along, shielding her as best he could with his own body. She wanted nothing more than to hide in his strong arms, but she had to be sure, she had to know...

Stepping away, she rushed back towards the Red Rocket and to the meticulously restored radio resting on a shelf by one of the windows there. When she realized that her shaking fingers were unable to dial in the frequency she needed, Nora sent a pleading glance towards Danse, who had silently followed her inside. With a nod, he reached out and tuned in on the Classical station, releasing an ominous hum of static noise into the air.

"He did it," Nora whispered, embracing herself and digging her fingernails deep into the flesh of her arms. "He fucking did it... Shaun. All of them. Dead. And I... I helped him, I... oh, fuck. I... Danse... tell me I am not a monster, please... tell me I am not--"

He reached out to embrace her, but when she made no move to accept the reassurance, he let his arms drop to his sides. "You are a mother who has made the ultimate sacrifice to remove a threat that would destroy the world as we know it if left unchecked. You are as far from a monster as a person can possibly be, Nora."

Biting her lip, she accepted his words with a quick nod. "He was not my Shaun, right? He was a fiend without conscience, without heart... not my baby. Right?"

"Absolutely. Had you raised him, I am certain he would grow up to be kind and courageous like you are, but they had twisted him into something exactly opposite."

"Yes. That. I'm-- yes." Taking a deep breath, she straightened up, but her eyes remained wild when she looked up. Unfocused. He knew that look all too well.

"Nora."

"Yes?"

"Cry. You have to let it out."

She shrugged. "No, I'll be okay, I just... I just need to--" But she did not know what it was that she needed to do to fill the gaping void inside her chest. That emptiness that glared at her and called her names she had no guts to hear.

"No, you will not be okay if you let it fester inside you." Danse reached out again, this time placing his hands firmly on her shoulders and squeezing a little too hard to hold her grounded in reality. "Listen to me very carefully now. I know you better than anyone else in this world, so when I say you are not a monster, I know it is the truth. Just like when you tell me I am not just a soulless machine, I know it is the truth because I trust you with my life. Nora, I'd do anything for you and it's not something I'd ever say to a monster. Just let me help you, please."

That did it. His words, so monumental, yet so out of character for the paladin, broke through all of her meagre defences.

Crying in Danse's arms was different this time. Painful. Excruciating, even. Cathartic. With every sob that wracked her body, Nora climbed higher up from the abyss she had been sinking into ever since she met Shaun's father all the centuries ago. Her heart skipped a few beats when the realization hit her that she was free. Completely, absolutely, unquestionably free. The very last tether that had kept her anchored to the bottom of the pitiless dark chasm deep inside her was gone. It took two nuclear explosions and annihilation of the entire world but, at long last, there were no chains yanking her in the directions she did not want to go. There was no burden weighing her down and making every day a struggle to live through. For the first time ever, her life was hers and hers alone.

"Thank you," she whispered into Danse's sternum after she managed to take a full, ragged breath. Pulling back to look at him, she wiped her nose with the back of a hand and made a face. "There's my snot all over your shirt..."

"I'll wear it with pride," he said simply, straightening up and puffing out his massive chest.

Nora laughed at that. The sound surprised her, so she laughed again, just to make sure it was real... and it was. "You're the best, damn you."

"That breakfast was the best," he countered, casting a longing look out the window at the porch outside. "Let's see if there's anything left worth saving there."

Just as they got back to the table, a group of settlers appeared on the road, half-running towards the Red Rocket from Sanctuary. Led by Preston himself, they all wore the uniforms and had guns at the ready, though no one bothered with a careful approach. Rushing in, the Minutemen stopped at the sight of the two of their highest ranking officers together and turned towards the third one for directions, but Garvey could only stare.

"Guess we kinda-sorta forgot to tell anyone you've moved in," Nora pointed out, tossing Danse a sheepish look.

"And they're probably here to make sure you're unharmed after that explosion," he added. "I'll handle it."

Letting him take over, she dropped onto one of the cushioned chairs and watched from a distance as he approached the small crowd and was greeted with respectful salutes. Pointing towards the Prydwen barely visible through the fallout dust in the distance, the Paladin explained what had happened and why. Happy cheering and celebratory gunshots followed the good news, but the merriment was immediately toned down when Danse scolded the most excited soldiers for wasting precious ammo. Nora had no doubt that an extra round of drills was in their immediate future.

A smile faded on her lips when she saw Preston step aside, his beloved hat in hand and head bowed in reverence as he faced the direction from where the blast came. The others soon joined him in a silent prayer for all the lives lost in the Brotherhood's ruthless attack.

Nora stood and retreated inside, hiding in the small bathroom that used to be the Red Rocket's office. Once the sliding door closed behind her, she leaned over the chipped sink and opened the tap. A few splashes of cold water over her face weren't enough to chase the feeling of guilt away, but they helped keep her calm. When Danse came looking for her several minutes later, she was sitting on the toilet's lid, face buried in hands.

"I'm not crying," she assured even before he could ask the question. "I'm just trying to persuade myself that Maxson had enough compassion left in him to let them evacuate... even though I am absolutely sure he didn't."

Danse sat on the floor next to her, stretching out his legs so they touched the side of an old-fashioned bathtub by the opposite wall. "He wouldn't," he said bluntly. "Even one escaped scientist would be enough to start rebuilding the Institute. That's not a risk he'd accept."

"Yeah. And the scary thing is that I agree with him on that."

He shrugged. "I'd call it pragmatic, not scary."

"Yeah," Nora repeated, tension gradually leaving her strained muscles. "Can't half-ass a job if you want it to be a success. Yadda, yadda. I get that. Fuck, I really do, but... there had to be some kids there. Perhaps at least they could have been saved..."

He sighed, leaning to the side to rest his head against her arm. "According to the data you brought from there, all residents were genetically modified into superhumans and heavily indoctrinated since birth, so they'd probably all turn into mad scientists had they ever had a chance to grow up. There are far more children up here on the surface that are worth that sacrifice."

"Danse?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

 

* * *

  **THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we have reached the end. Through spells of depression and self-doubts, through hardware failures and writer's blocks, we've finally reached the end of my Nora's story... although truth be told, it was as much Danse's story as it was hers. 
> 
> I'm leaving it here on purpose, to let YOU decide how their relationship evolved from there. Was it a full-on romance, or a really deep friendship, it is up to you, my dear readers. I'd say both outcomes are equally plausible there. 
> 
> That said, thank you for being with me through all the ups and downs. Thank you for reading and thank you for giving me a bit of yourself in your feedback. The comments were what ultimately made it possible for me to not only return to this story after I had abandoned it but also complete it in the way I had it planned from the very beginning. 
> 
> It was a great ride and I'm glad you took it with me.


End file.
